


Patience

by cuecard



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: AU, F/F, Little bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 20:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuecard/pseuds/cuecard
Summary: “I wish I remembered what it was like to fall asleep with you.”The words make Becky’s heart pound painfully against her rib cage. It takes her brain a few seconds to catch up with what Charlotte is implying and then another few seconds for her brain to actually conjure up words so that she can form a coherent reply.“I wish you remembered too.”





	1. you set my mind at ease

**Author's Note:**

> I am down a rabbit hole with these two, you're probably sick of the sight of me on here! 
> 
> Basically this is tropey nonsense where Charlotte forgets and Becky has to be patient (which isn't always easy). 
> 
> Also, someone asked if I have Tumblr so if you want to yell with me about these two or yell at me depending on your reaction to this story or my others, feel free to visit my Tumblr: borntorunnn

It happens on a Sunday night near the end of January.  
  
A cold and wet winter’s night. Everything looks all smudged and diluted and grey. There’s not even a hint of greenery anywhere yet, it’s all dirty slush from the last big snowfall and mushy leaves and everything just looks down right miserable to be honest.  
  
Becky gets the call just after six in the evening. She doesn’t recognise the number but she answers it anyway and thank God she does. She doesn’t really register most of the information that she is told, just the important parts: Charlotte’s been in an accident, it’s serious and she should get to the hospital as quickly as she can.  
  
_Charlotte. Accident. Serious. Hospital._  
  
So she does go to the hospital.

When she gets there she wishes she hadn’t.

*****

Becky is exhausted – physically and mentally and emotionally. Her legs are crossed as she sits on the uncomfortable plastic seat in the dreary hospital waiting room; her hands are loosely clasped together, resting on her stomach. Her eyes are open but there’s no movement in them.  
  
In fact, there is no movement at all as the time passes. No head shake, no twitching of her thumbs or fingers, no tiny adjustments of her legs, no shifting or rocking, nothing, except the unavoidable reaction of blinking her eyes.  
  
She’s been in this position for the last two hours, simply staring at the wall, as though if she stares at it for long enough she will magically be transported elsewhere, preferably back in time so that she can avoid this whole excruciating disaster from happening in the first place.  
  
Her legs should have cramped by now. Her feet should be tingly with hundreds of pins and needles. Her neck should be stiff from the lack of movement, but she looks as comfortable and as stress free as a woman sitting in her own home.  
  
But while her body is still her mind is frantic. She pictures her mind as a little cartoon who is running around with sparks and smoke coming from their feet because they are traveling too quickly.  
  
_Charlotte._  
  
_Accident.  
_

_Serious._

_Hospital._  
  
_Retrograde amnesia.  
  
_Becky’s heard of it but she doesn’t know much of anything about it. It’s something you hear on tv shows or the movies, it’s not something that happens to the people you love. There had been a sadness to the doctor’s voice as he had explained to them, his voice carrying the echo of the loss that Becky currently feels.  
  
Becky feels like she is underwater, everything is fuzzy and distant, as if it is happening to someone else other than her.  
  
The dull ache inside of her almost cuts her adrift, unmoored from everything that really matters, an unforgiving tide that won’t retreat.  
  
“Becky!” She startles a little at the sound of her name but not enough to pull her attention away from the spot she’s staring at on the wall. There are voices on the peripheral of her hearing field and she can hear machines faintly beeping away continuously somewhere close by too.  
  
Becky’s not sure what to say. She’s not sure if she can actually say what she needs to anyway because if she says it out loud then that makes it real and she wishes desperately that it wasn’t. If there was just some way she could rewind…  
  
“Becky, what the hell is going on?”  
  
Sasha crouches so that she’s eye level with Becky and Becky finally tears her attention away from the wall and onto her best friend. She can see the concern painted on Sasha’s face, eyes coloured by genuine fear and confusion.  
  
Becky stops thinking for a moment and then says: “Hey. What’s going on? Charlotte doesn’t know who I am, that’s what is going on.”  
  
“Don’t be stupid, Becky.”  
  
“Sasha.” Becky takes in a breath and exhales noisily; it’s one of those secret friend signals that tells people who know her that they should pay very close attention to what she is about to say. “I’m not fuckin’ around. She doesn’t know who I am and for what it’s worth she doesn’t remember who you are either,” Becky adds with a nod to Bayley who is standing behind Sasha with her arms wrapped around herself.  
  
Sasha waits for more but in the end Becky simply stops speaking. The gesture is artlessly executed, as if Becky is simply going through a checklist of what to say.

Say hey. Deliver the bad news. Close up. End the conversation.  
  
Sasha closes her eyes and bites down on her cheek as her stomach plummets through the floor, the blood in her veins running cold and sending a zip through her whole body. She’s always been good at passive aggressive game play but when it comes to Becky she struggles for some reason.  
  
“Her memory is gonna come back right? She’s gonna remember?”  
  
“They don’t know,” Becky utters slowly. “It might, it might not. Who knows. But right now she hasn’t a clue who I am.”  
  
“Have you seen her yet?” Bayley asks, her voice melodic and lovely, so at odds with Becky’s own.  
  
“Nah, I don’t know what am supposed to say or do. Her parents are in there with her right now.”  
  
Sasha is too tired and worried to keep pushing this massive rock up the hill. She moves onto the seat next to Becky and puts an arm around Becky’s shoulders. “Then you need to make her remember you, Becky.”  
  
“Yeah,” Bayley agrees, “when did you ever run away from a challenge?”  
  
The attempt to make Becky smile falls flat on its face but she appreciates it nonetheless. It’s also true on some levels, she’s always been a stubborn ass and running away from challenges isn’t really her thing. Becky is the one that would stand up and face the Devil if necessary.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Becky snaps at them, “I’ll just go and build a fucking time machine, shall I? So that none of this happens.”  
  
She bites her tongue the second the words leave her mouth, but it is too late to take them back. It’s easy to be angry, but as she looks between her two best friends she feels the fight go out of her, feels the emotion swell in her gut, her chest, her throat and then she’s shivering against Sasha.  
  
She tries to take some deep breaths because someone had once told her that it is supposed to be calming. That someone is a fucking moron because all it does is make her heart pound harder and her stomach flip flop like she’s on some sort of roller coaster, and in a way she probably is but it’s not the enjoyable kind that’s for sure.  
  
So Becky looks at her current predicament and she sets herself apart from it. She sees it, identifies it, and examines it. She isolates it. She even challenges it.  
  
You against me? Keep dreaming. She builds walls. She builds walls and forces the pain behind them and then she moves the walls inward, compressing the pain, crushing it, limiting it and she knows she will beat it eventually too.  
  
“I need to see her,” Becky eventually murmurs and Sasha’s hand that is currently massaging the base of Becky’s neck comes to a stop.  
  
“You do. I’m sure her parents would like that too.”  
  
Becky knows she has legs. She can see them filling out her black faded jeans, but they don’t want to move and she can’t really blame them. She takes a moment to compose herself, to school her features into an expression that doesn't scream ‘ _I am totally lost’_.  
  
“I can do this,” Becky says.  
  
“Course you can,” Sasha agrees. “You’re Becky Lynch. You can do anything.”

*****

There’s an awful feeling of dread when she steps into Charlotte’s room but when she speaks her voice is steadier than she expected it to be. “Charlotte?”  
  
Charlotte’s sitting up in bed – awake - and caught in amongst a maze of wires. There are small bruises and cuts peppering her skin and there’s a vicious looking bruise underneath her eye that Becky swears has gotten darker in the time she’s been in the room. Charlotte’s left arm is in a sling and on the other arm there’s a little circular bandage in the crook of her elbow where a needle has obviously extracted blood.  
  
Becky’s chest feels too tight like her lungs are unable to expand properly. She can feel them burning as she takes a breath in. She can feel the sharp stab of pain in her stomach and chest flutter up into her throat and she swallows it down quickly as Charlotte’s voice vibrates around in her head.  
  
“Becky, right?” Charlotte’s voice is hoarse but it’s still _her_ voice and Becky would recognise that voice anywhere. “My dad keeps telling me about you. He’s right, it’s the hair that gives you away.”  
  
There’s a painful silence as the harsh reality of their situation embeds itself further into the very foundations of their lives. Becky’s not even sure if she’s still even breathing as her lungs are still burning. She bites the inside of her cheek so hard that she’s pretty sure she feels the skin split.  
  
Charlotte’s eyes stay on her and Becky attempts to smile but it comes out more like a grimace and it certainly doesn’t reach her eyes in the way that it normally does when she smiles at Charlotte. Becky wills herself to move, she sends a silent message to her brain telling it to make her feet move and they eventually do. She finds herself moving towards Charlotte and drawing a chair up alongside the edge of the bed.  
  
“Yeah, I’m Becky.”  
  
In amongst the chaos of the bed, Charlotte looks fragile and vulnerable and Becky feels sick, and although she hasn’t eaten in hours she feels the contents of her stomach press up against her throat.  
  
“And we’re…” Charlotte stops, gazing into space, the dreary hospital lights above them dancing in her eyes as she tries to draw the details out of the black. “And we’re together?”  
  
Becky has never felt more out of place in her life and it’s awkward, oh it’s so awkward. And that’s the part that hurts right now because things with Charlotte have never been awkward. They have connected in the shallows and in the deep. And there’s absolutely no preparation for this kind of thing, you know? No manual or guide for your reactions.  
  
And Becky can’t exactly lie to her. She knows this can’t be easy for Charlotte either and the last thing she wants to do right now is make anything worse. She can see the confusion in Charlotte’s face, flickering in and away again like a fire that doesn’t want to go out.  
  
“Yeah, we’re together,” Becky says, the quietness of the room makes her words sound so much louder and she cringes.  
  
“Do you have a second name?” Charlotte asks and there’s a glint in her eyes that Becky recognises: Charlotte’s amused for some reason.  
  
“Lynch.”  
  
“Becky Lynch,” Charlotte repeats. She holds Becky’s name like a precious artifact: historic, sentimental, strange but beautiful. “I like it. It suits you.”  
  
“That’s not so bad then.”  
  
“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” Charlotte asks, but not in a way that’s unkind, it’s more curious than anything else and Becky supposes she’d be curious too if she was the one in Charlotte’s shoes.  
  
“I’ll figure it out,” Becky answers, “I - we - always do.”  
  
“Are you going to tell me that I'm a Lynch too… or?”  
  
Becky shakes her head once, bites down on her lip and reaches for Charlotte’s free hand, looking up for consent first which is freely given with a slight tilt of Charlotte’s head. The air is thick and spiky with electricity. Becky can taste it, all metallic and coppery, it’s like when you’ve left the dentist after having work done on your teeth and you’re left with that odd taste in your mouth. She glances up and finds Charlotte staring at her: once and then twice.  
  
“How did I meet you?” Charlotte asks.  
  
“Sasha introduced us after I bugged her about you for a few weeks.”  
  
“And we… we got together after that?”  
  
Becky lets out a shaky breath that morphs into an awkward laugh. “Nah, took a bit of time before that happened.”  
  
It would have been easier climbing Mount Everest than it was getting Charlotte to agree to go out with her. Becky had wrongly – she’ll have you know – got the reputation for being a bit of a player and Charlotte, in the early days, had never really let go of that, always afraid of getting too close in case Becky had burned her. It had taken Becky a few months and a lot of patience before Charlotte had eventually given her a chance.  
  
Becky had initially tried the traditional tested route of buying Charlotte flowers – that hadn’t worked. She’d then suggested a dinner and the movies – that hadn’t worked either. She’d then tried not talking to Charlotte in the hope that Charlotte would reach out to her instead – that certainly hadn’t worked.  
  
And then, on a spur of the moment idea one Saturday, she’d driven over to Charlotte’s house and asked her if she’d wanted to go to the new giant arcade in the city because apparently they sold the best milkshakes and Becky had really wanted to try one. Charlotte had agreed and Becky nearly tripped over her own feet when they walked to her car.  
  
“An arcade and milkshakes? Seriously?” Charlotte sounds completely scandalised at the thought.  
  
“Seriously,” Becky confirms with an easy smile. “They also had this obstacle course that was aimed more at kids than adults but we had a go and I beat you and you were in a right mood with me – “  
  
“That actually sounds like me.”  
  
“So I… so I kissed you and that was it.”  
  
“How long have we been together, Becky?”

The world around Charlotte looks different. It is no longer a place she really understands. It’s like a foreign city has risen up around her and changed the landscape of things completely.  
  
And there’s a hint of fear in Charlotte’s voice like she doesn’t really want to know the answer and the question stops Becky mid smile. Charlotte's words are even handed on the surface but it is clear that Charlotte is wounded by all of this too and that’s understandable, Becky thinks. Charlotte wouldn’t be human if she wasn’t wounded by all of this.  
  
Because how the hell would you feel if you woke up and were told you’d lost a litany of memories? People, places, events and stories all gone like they weren’t even there in the first place.  
  
“Just over three years,” Becky answers honestly.  
  
Charlotte’s thumb swipes across Becky’s hand and Becky wonders if her answer has sparked some sort of recognition in Charlotte. When her eyes flicker up towards Charlotte there’s an expression that flits across her face that looks halfway between relief and worry.  
  
“I don’t remember,” Charlotte admits in a tone that sounds a lot like sorrow, “I have no idea who you are but this –“  
  
Charlotte’s words sting. Actually, it’s more than that, they hurt like a bitch. Becky feels the giant wave that’s been following her over the last few hours build higher and steeper to blacken the sky in her world, she feels the crest wobble and begin to spill over, she feels its great weight crashing down on her with the whole weight of the ocean behind it.  
  
What the hell is she going to do?  
  
“What about this?”  
  
Charlotte’s lips are pressed tight and her face looks strained, as if she’s trying to pull memories out of a dark hole. Eventually, she shakes her head, and her breath catches in her throat. She’s been holding it in, trying to force an answer out, but all she manages is: “I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”

-

She knows there’s something wrong the minute she rounds the door to Charlotte’s hospital room a week later. There’s no friendly smile or wave sent her way, there’s nothing except silence.

Charlotte looks sad and weighed down. But there’s something else there, hidden behind the anguish, Becky can see it. Charlotte seems confused somehow, as if totally uncertain of herself, the expression so out of place on the person that Becky knows _._ She half smiles at Becky eventually but the anguish doesn’t go away. It is anchored in her eyes, in the crescent of her mouth and it feels like it has spread like the roots of a tree.  
  
And _her_ Charlotte is still there, Becky knows that. She just needs to find a way to bring her to the surface again, to reach out a hand and grab on tight so that she can pull Charlotte back into the version of this life they have made and created together.  
  
“Hey, what’s wrong?”  
  
Becky automatically adjusts the pillow behind Charlotte’s head and she fluffs up the blanket on the bed so that everything is where it should be and Charlotte is comfortable.  
  
“It’s nothing.”  
  
“I know you remember, so tell me.”  
  
Becky thinks this is what it must feel like to learn a new instrument only in this instance she feels like a piano player, she has the memory of Charlotte ingrained in her fingertips but she’s now learning a new complex song that she’ll have to listen to five or six times before she really _gets_ it because there’s notes and keys she hadn’t anticipated.  
  
“It’s just so messed up,” Charlotte states bluntly, “Sasha and Bayley visited me earlier and I could tell they were telling me things I’ve already been told, I could hear it in their voice and it’s just so infuriating. I feel like I’m letting them down which is ridiculous because I don't remember Bayley either – “  
  
“You’re not,” Becky interrupts quickly. “You’re not letting anyone down, Charlotte.”  
  
“You want to know something weird?” Charlotte asks.  
  
Becky can only look at her.  
  
“I don’t dream anymore.”  
  
The change of direction surprises Becky for a second. “What d’you mean?”  
  
“I mean, I don’t have them anymore. Not once since this happened.”  
  
“Not one?”  
  
“Nothing. Or nothing I remember, anyway. It’s like…” Charlotte exhales, her body shrinking, as if punctured, and her eyes are pained like she’s going to cry. “It’s like that part of me is gone too.”  
  
A heavy silence settles around them and Becky searches for something to say, something that might comfort her, but she can’t think of anything substantial. Charlotte puts her hand out then and she looks uneasy, like she’s not sure Becky will take it but Becky does, as always.  
  
And then Charlotte does begin to cry.  
  
You see that’s the thing about feelings, they have to come out and they’ll find a way whether it’s through actions or words or emotions, they’ll find the release switch somehow.  
  
Becky lifts her up slightly, so she’s in a sitting position and then there’s an arm around Charlotte’s back and waist, holding her up. Charlotte lets herself cry and not because she wants to but because she physically and emotionally can’t help it. Her body shakes and Becky holds her tighter. There’s circles being rubbed on her back and then there’s fingers combing through her hair. Charlotte feels her muscles relax and her stomach unclench as Becky’s fingers continue to move through her hair: it’s soothing and consoling all at the same time.  
  
“You’re gonna remember, y’know,” Becky finally remarks after a few minutes. “I know you will.”  
  
Charlotte looks up through wet eyelashes and there’s a determination to Becky’s face, as if what she’s said is a guarantee rather than a hope and prayer.  
  
“I can’t explain it even though I wish I could but you’re different.”  
  
“Course I am, Charlotte.” Becky smiles and Charlotte can’t help but laugh, even if it’s a little false.  
  
“It’s like… I’ve seen so many people over the last week. People I remember, the doctors, then the people I don’t remember and then there’s you, it’s not as scary when you’re with me but I can’t explain why.”  
  
Becky rests her chin on Charlotte’s shoulder, their bodies are pressed closely together and it’s nothing sexual but Becky’s body comes back to life at the closeness. There’s a big part of her that wants to cry. She’s missed this more than words can ever explain but she also knows they really need to keep boundaries because Charlotte is confused enough and this will probably make it worse.  
  
Instead of crying, Becky does the opposite. She smiles.  
  
“We’re gonna get through this, Charlotte. We’re just gonna need a little patience.”  
  
The following day when Becky returns, Charlotte is smiling again.

*****

“Hey.”  
  
No response.  
  
“Hello?” Becky says, louder.  
  
No sound at all. No static and no immediate background noise.  
  
Becky sits forward on the couch.  
  
More silence.  
  
“Charlotte?”  
  
“Becky, it’s me.”  
  
“I know,” Becky answers gently, “you okay?”  
  
“I needed to speak to you. I know it’s late and I’m sorry but – “  
  
“Charlotte, what’s wrong?”  
  
More silence. For a second, all Becky can hear is the slight crackle of Charlotte’s breath against the mouthpiece. Then, finally, she speaks again.  
  
“I don’t know. I just know that you’re the one I need to speak to.”  
  
Becky feels a tear roll down the side of her face at the sound of Charlotte’s voice. If she’d taken the time to write down ten things that might happen during a phone call tonight with Charlotte, crying probably wouldn’t have made it onto the list. And even if it had, she’d have predicted it would be Charlotte.  
  
Becky tastes the saltiness of her tears on her lips as she reaches a shaky hand behind her head and rubs at her neck. She swallows the lump of panic just as her fingers brush over the base of her throat. She lifts her hand and uses her palm to wipe away the tears.  
  
“We can talk, Charlotte. No worries.”  
  
“Can I ask you something?”  
  
“Anything, you know that.”  
  
“What was our first date like? I mean, I know you took me to an _arcade,_ ” Charlotte says the word like it is a thorn in her mouth and Becky can’t help but smile, “but what was our proper first date like?”  
  
Becky thinks back to their first official date and honestly? It had turned into a bit of a shambles. But she’d figured out two things that night: one, Charlotte couldn’t dance to save her life and two, Charlotte was the person that Becky was going to end up with. End of story.  
  
“It was… interesting.”  
  
“Interesting? That’s another phrase for bad, isn’t it?” Charlotte asks.  
  
“Nah, it wasn’t bad at all. But you’re gonna tell me about that first date when you remember.”  
  
“Trying to give me motivation?” Charlotte jokes.   
  
“It’s a cracking story, Charlotte. I’ll be right here waitin’ when you’re ready to tell me it.”  
  
They talk for another hour and Charlotte feels herself begin to settle. The anxiety that has been swirling around her stomach has begun to fade and she can feel herself becoming tired. Becky is like a calm body of water that she can swim in while forgetting about all the carnage that is going on around her.  
  
Life has a way of binding you to certain people. You’re bound to people and places, whether you like it or not, and it doesn’t really matter if you fight it, or if something attempts to come in between it, or you’re in an accident and your memory decides to go on an untimely vacation, you’re always drawn to them and that’s all there is to it.  
  
Charlotte is beginning to understand that notion when it comes to Becky Lynch.


	2. take it slow and it'll work itself out fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos/comments it is much appreciated! 
> 
> There are a few time jumps in this chapter but I've made it clear whether it's weeks/months so I hope that's not too confusing for you. 
> 
> Also, feel free to visit me on tumblr and say hello: borntorunnn

The early morning sun streams in through the window, piercing the cheap blinds of the hospital and casting strobes of lights across the room. There’s an explosion of colour behind her eyes because of it and she can actually see the outline of tiny blood vessels. She reluctantly opens her eyes and it feels like there is gravel stuck under her eyelids.  
  
When she looks to her right Charlotte’s skin has an ethereal glow to it and Becky feels something warm settle right in the middle of her chest. She stretches her hands up and above her head and tilts her head left and then right to try and work the kink out of her neck. It doesn’t matter the circumstances or who it is for, sleeping in a hospital chair is a modern form of torture, of that Becky is more than convinced.  
  
It has been a long winter by all accounts and the burst of sunlight filtering through the window just looks odd and out of place for a moment, or maybe that’s just Charlotte. The way she is. The way she can light up any room that she’s in.  
  
Within ten minutes the light that’s currently probing through the window shifts again and creates an exquisite pattern on Becky’s hand and if it was possible, she would pick it up and drape it over Charlotte’s sleeping form.  
  
Charlotte had called her late last night again and had sounded frantic so Becky had come to the hospital and she’d eventually nodded off into a night of restless sleep. The bruise under Charlotte’s eye has stopped looking so angry and the superficial cuts on her arms have all but healed. The ribs are taking a little longer but Charlotte has assured her repeatedly that the pain is bearable.  
  
Becky’s heart feels noisy today already. She can feel it pressing against her rib cage in a steady pound. It’s been two weeks and Becky’s stomach still tightens painfully every time she sees Charlotte in this hospital bed. Her throat is dry and she tries to swallow in an attempt to get some moisture back into her mouth as she looks across at Charlotte who is still sleeping, her hand is still resting near the bar where Becky had obviously fallen asleep holding it.  
  
Charlotte’s hair is wild and Becky has to bite back the laugh that ripples in her chest because Becky has always teased her about her ‘bed hair’ in the morning and Charlotte has always denied – vehemently by the way – that she has bed hair in the first place.  
  
Becky knows it sounds silly, it does even to her, but Charlotte looks small right now, curled into a sleepy figure that makes Becky’s bones feel like they are melting.  
  
Becky misses her, and it sounds crazy because Charlotte is right there, but it’s just not the same. She goes home to an empty apartment every night now and her heart cracks all over again, it’s like removing layers of skin until she hits bone. In all honesty, both their apartment and the hospital feel like a setting for a story that is not really Becky’s anymore. The heart of it isn’t there, it has been ripped out and trampled on.  
  
She’s not exactly living in her pain and she’s not crying herself to sleep every night or anything like that. She is, she tells herself anyway, dealing with this whole situation. But she does feel like something is missing at times, as cliché as that sounds.  
  
She misses the rhythm of being two. Beating a drum with only one stick doesn’t have the same kind of rhythm or sound at all.  
  
She stands and winces at the pain that shoots through her joints, it radiates the full length of her body and then ceases like it hasn’t even been there in the first place. She takes a step forward and her knuckles brush against Charlotte’s own, once and then twice. She leans down and tucks the edges of the duvet in at Charlotte’s side and then she slips blonde hair behind Charlotte’s ear so that it’s away and out of her face.  
  
And it would be so easy to press her lips against Charlotte’s forehead, she’s itching to do it, and she’s debating about it when Charlotte moves. She lets out a sleepy sigh and then her light eyes are fluttering open, locking onto Becky’s when she finally blinks them open fully.  
  
“You’re still here,” Charlotte whispers, voice still hoarse from sleep.  
  
“Well I wasn’t gonna leave you, was I?”  
  
Becky takes a step back and drops down onto the chair that is now her sworn enemy. It almost moulds itself back into the shape of her body, bringing back all the aches and pains she already has from the damn thing. She wishes she could throw this chair right out the window and never see it again.  
  
“You didn’t have to stay with me.”  
  
Becky looks at her as if she has just said something incredibly stupid. Actually, Becky looks at her like she will peel back Charlotte’s sky and carefully soak up all of the blood and burn, so it is only the colourful brightness that remains above her.  
  
“How did you sleep?” Becky asks, changing the subject.  
  
“Honestly? I slept like a baby.”  
  
Becky’s lips tilt up into a smile. “What does that even mean? Does that mean you slept good or you woke up every half hour crying and screaming and hungry?”  
  
Charlotte sighs, heavy and hard as if she is debating about saying something in response. Becky lets the silence linger until it is just tapping into the 'this is awkward' territory.  
  
“Charlotte, you okay?”  
  
“I just… I just want you to know that I don’t know what I would do without you right now, Becky.”  
  
There’s a surprised fear in Charlotte’s voice and it wraps around Becky’s heart like a gentle caress, filling the hollowness that seems to be there these days, lurking in the cavity like a shadow.  
  
“Hey, I’m right here,” Becky assures her. “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
-  
  
“Sometimes when I’m with you,” Charlotte says after a while, hunched over her cereal that’s in a flimsy plastic bowl, “I find things familiar to me.”  
  
Becky looks at her. “Wait, you’re starting to remember things?”  
  
“No.” Charlotte shakes her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s not like I get a clear memory of things, it’s more like a general sense. Like when you tell me things we’ve done or places we’ve been I know that they are true, I don’t know how I know that but I do.”  
  
“Like an echo or somethin’?” Becky suggests.  
  
“Yeah!” Charlotte nods again, more vigorously this time. “An echo. My occupational therapist calls them ‘connectors’. I’m sitting here eating this cereal and I know that you and me have done this before in the morning but I have no memory of it. I just know that we have.” She pauses for a minute, frowning down at her spoon. “This is a connector. This connects me back to you.”  
  
“Cereal? Really? Out of all the things that could remind you of me,” Becky’s joking and Charlotte can tell by the way her dark eyes crinkle at the edges.  
  
“Shut up, you know what I mean.”  
  
Becky grins, taking the last spoonful of her own cereal. “It’s a start, Charlotte. It’ll all come back to you, I know it will.”  
  
Becky means it, even if there are moments when she has her own doubts, but – as she looks at Charlotte – she gets the sense that Charlotte doesn’t fully believe her yet, or at least isn’t allowing herself to believe Becky yet.  
  
Becky can’t really blame her either but Becky has always found that it’s better to think positively rather than negatively or you’ll end up down the never ending tunnel of doom and quite frankly Becky can’t afford to go down there right now or she might never come back.

*****

Charlotte yawns so hard her jaw clicks. She sits back in the bed, staring out at the rest of the hospital room, trying to get some sort of focus in her mind. She rolls her shoulders and feels a dull bloom of pain radiate down to her side where her ribs are still tender to the touch.  
  
She takes a drink of her tepid tea before returning to the task that has occupied her mind for the last thirty minutes of her afternoon. Charlotte has never been one who found writing romantic or helpful or whatever, but the fact that she has, for the fourth time, scrunched the paper up into a ball is down right infuriating. It's an exercise her occupational therapist has encouraged her to do in an attempt to jog her memory but so far it's just annoying her.

The fact is where Becky is concerned, Charlotte is developing a new kind of sense, as if Becky is simply more in focus than anyone else in Charlotte’s life. Everything about Becky in the present is clear and close and immediate, despite the situation they are in.  
  
And it’s not going to be plain sailing, Charlotte is more than aware of that. This recovery is going to be tough and frustrating and anxiety ridden but there’s something telling her that maybe Becky won’t bail on her, that she won’t throw the towel in and walk away when it would probably be easy to do so.  
  
Her father’s words echo in her ear _‘the day you got with Becky your feet stopped touching the ground’._ And Charlotte wants to know how Becky has managed to get her dad to like her because her dad has never liked any one she has dated, not a single person, but he seems terribly fond of Becky and that seal of approval means a hell of a lot in Charlotte’s mind.  
  
She wonders if she should tell Becky what she is doing or leave it. The idea hovers and twinkles delicately, like a tiny bubble, and she doesn’t want to look directly at it in case it bursts. But Charlotte is at least familiar with the nature of ideas so she decides to let it shimmer, looking away and thinking about what else she can write down.

A short while later her teeth move to her bottom lip and Charlotte chews on it. She’s in a perpetual state of turbulence, disorientated to the point where she can’t even remember the person who obviously made her happy. It’s not fair, Charlotte decides, it’s absolutely not fair because if Becky made her happy then _she_ obviously made Becky happy too and how did she manage that?

She really has no fucking idea.

*****

“You want a drink, Becky?”  
  
“Nah, just water for me.”  
  
Becky takes a seat by the window overlooking the black wrought iron gates that protect the front of the building on the other side of the street. She’s lost in a daydream by the time Sasha comes back and places their drinks on the table.  
  
“You know, Becky, I’ve just realised that I haven’t seen you take a sip of alcohol in weeks. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Sasha jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.  
  
“I don’t drink anymore.”  
  
Sasha leans forward, clearly intrigued. “Not even that beer you like?”  
  
“Nah, just leave it, please.”  
  
Sasha pulls her chair closer in to the table. “Oh no, as soon as you want me to leave something it tells me there’s something more to it.”  
  
Brilliant, Becky has walked right into that one. “I just don’t want a drink, isn’t that a good thing?”  
  
Sasha scratches at her cheek lightly like she’s trying to figure something out. “Sure but I know you’re lying so I don’t believe you. You’ve barely spoken to me today even though it was you who asked me if I was free for a drink tonight, and now we're here you have water.”  
  
Sometimes Sasha just doesn’t leave things alone and only she can push Becky like this. “Can you just leave it?”  
  
Becky turns back to the window. A day last week, as the reality of her current situation had really settled in her mind, she’d treated herself to a bottle of vodka and a small bottle of soda. The resulting hangover had brought the memory of oblivion and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For a few hours the pain had been dissolved and her mind had been clear of anger and frustration and hurt. Becky doesn’t want to visit that happy place again so soon in case she doesn’t want to come back.  
  
“Pizza?” A waiter asks questioningly, holding one large plate in his right hand.  
  
Sasha nods and thanks him as he places the plate on the table before Becky almost growls at her.  
  
“You told me you didn’t have time for lunch today so I know you’ve hardly eaten,” Sasha argues, reaching for a slice of the pizza.  
  
“You really need t'stop motherin' me these days.”  
  
“Well, start taking care of yourself, Becky, and I won’t have to. I know things are tough right now but you need to remember and have time for yourself.”  
  
Becky watches as Sasha takes a slice of the pizza and she follows suit, amazed at how their friendship even works. It’s like an elastic band, at times it stretches to its limit, taut with intensity and then ping, right back into place like nothing has even happened.  
  
They eat in sound silence until Becky pushes the plate away from her and wipes her hand on the napkin she has. She curls her hands around her glass of fizzy water, it’s cool to the touch and there’s condensation dripping onto her the back of her palm. Sasha sips at her wine and leans back further into her chair. Becky can’t stand Sasha for a second because she knows this tactic; Sasha is not going to let Becky away scot free, she’s going to make Becky talk it out like adults are supposed to.  
  
“Do you wanna talk?” Sasha eventually asks. Her voice is low so that only Becky can hear her and the words aren’t carried away by the rest of the customers in the room.  
  
“Do I wanna talk?” Becky asks, scrunching up her face. “Nah. Are you gonna make me talk? Yeah.”  
  
Becky is silent for several long seconds and then she huffs and tilts her chin upwards. She removes her hands from her glass and drums her fingers against the edge of the table before placing her hands on the table, palms downwards.  
  
“Some days,” Becky starts slowly, “I wake up and forget it has happened. There’s a minute or two where my eyes are still shut and my life is the exact same as it was a few weeks ago and then reality hits me and I could put the pillow over my face and keep it there.”  
  
“Becky – “  
  
“And she’s told me that some things feel familiar to her now which is great, it really is but she still doesn’t remember _me_ , Sasha. It’s not her fault and I get that but imagine how you’d feel if Bayley didn’t remember you?”  
  
Sasha leans across and covers Becky’s hand with her own, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze. “I can’t imagine and I don’t ever want to but you need to give it time. Your life has been turned upside down and so has hers. You gotta stick together. We all do. We’ll get through this with her.”  
  
“I’m tryin’, Sasha, I’m tryin’ my best.”  
  
“I know, and as much as we might want to break sometimes,” Sasha says as she squeezes Becky’s hand again, “we’re really only made to bend. Trust me, Becky, Charlotte will only want you to bend.”

*****

Much to everyone’s surprise, Becky’s included for that matter, Charlotte chooses to go home to their apartment when she’s finally discharged from the hospital.  
  
Becky had figured that Charlotte would want to go back to her dad’s with the people she’s remembered from before but apparently that isn’t in the script and Becky decides to just roll with it because there’s nothing else she can do anyway.

Becky has made sure everything is labeled and colour coded so that Charlotte isn’t too overwhelmed by everything. The kitchen is covered in green labels from the utensil drawer to a ‘how to work this washing machine’ label, the bedroom and ensuite is dotted with red labels so that Charlotte knows where everything is, and the living room only has one label and that’s how to work the floor to ceiling blinds because it’s a pernickety task that usually gets Becky annoyed as there’s a certain way to do it. She’s also moved her stuff into the spare bedroom so that Charlotte can have the main one and that had bloody stung.  
  
The journey back home takes over forty minutes and Becky is antsy. Her palms are sweaty and her knuckles are white against the steering wheel and there’s a solid ball of energy pulsing away in her stomach that almost takes the place of her heartbeat. There’s an almost curious look to Charlotte’s face when she sees the modern apartment complex.  
  
“This is it.”  
  
“Becky,” Charlotte begins, as she looks out the window of the car, “are we rich?”  
  
There’s a laugh on the tip of Becky’s tongue but she controls it because she doesn’t want Charlotte to feel silly. “We do okay, yeah. I wanted to buy a house but you wanted an apartment so we compromised and bought the apartment obviously.”  
  
“I feel like I got my own way a lot with you.”  
  
Becky does laugh then. “Hm, you could say that. C’mon.”  
  
Becky takes Charlotte’s bag from the backseat and they walk towards the building’s main door together. Becky slides a card over a little sensor before there’s a beep and the door springs open, revealing a simple but elegant lobby, complete with stairs and two elevators.  
  
The marble floor is veined with rivulets of subtle colours to suit the earthy tone. The floor looks like it has been polished recently and Becky is pretty sure she can see her full body reflection. The walls are painted in a soft shade of cream and paintings from artists Becky still doesn’t know hang on the wall. The whole place screams modern and fresh.  
  
Becky presses the button and the glass elevator slides open. They step inside and Becky presses number 3 on the dashboard. The button glows green before the doors slowly slide shut. A soft spring indicates that the elevator has left the ground and they are on the way up.  
  
“Did I – do we – like it here?” Charlotte asks quietly against the hum of the elevator.  
  
“Yeah,” Becky murmurs, as the door slides open, “it’s kinda great.”  
  
They exit the elevator together and Becky directs Charlotte down a long corridor. They stop outside an immaculate black door, the number 7 sits on the front of it on a little plaque and it is coloured gold in a small splash of personality.  
  
“You ready?” Becky asks.  
  
“I don’t know. I think so?”  
  
“Just take a minute, Charlotte. It’s fine, this is a big step. Hey, do you trust me?”  
  
Charlotte knows trust is a delicate concept, it’s so fragile and not easily earned and it’s even harder to repair if it’s ever broken. However, she figures she’s had no reason not to trust Becky so far and she must have trusted her before this whole disaster so she may aswell take the plunge with her again now.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You’ve got this.”  
  
Becky closes the door behind them as Charlotte walks into their apartment first. She walks straight across to the window where the view is rich and vast and colourful and Becky watches as Charlotte brings her fingers up to the glass but she doesn’t touch the window, her hand hovers for a second before she drops it completely and just stands.  
  
“I like this view.”

“Give it ten minutes and you'll see the sun disappearin’,” Becky answers as she steps forward next to Charlotte. Usually she’d lean her head against Charlotte’s shoulder but she doesn’t, she _can’t,_ she’s taking the whole boundaries thing very seriously. Her phone beeps and Becky fires a quick text back to Sasha before she looks up at Charlotte.  
  
“Who’s that?” Charlotte asks as she nods down towards the phone in Becky’s hand.  
  
“Sasha. She just wanted to make sure you got hom – here safely.”  
  
“Is she going to come over soon?”  
  
Becky smiles. “Course, yeah. She just wants to check in. Do you want to put your stuff away?”  
  
Charlotte nods and then follows Becky on the short walk down the hall. Charlotte feels like she’s been transported into another world. While the living room is full of calming neutral colours, the bedroom is full of bold reds and blacks. She looks at the view from the window and some how has no doubts whatsoever that she has had a big say on the layout of this room and how it has been decorated.  
  
The sky outside has now yellowed like an old bruise and the sun has began its descent behind the city’s building’s, dropping out of the clouds as if it is simply falling. Charlotte sits her bag down onto the floor before she strolls across to the window to inspect the view properly.  
  
Becky leans against the door frame and simply watches as Charlotte paces gently across the room. She watches as Charlotte picks up a photo of them and runs her finger over the frame; it is – was – Charlotte’s favourite picture of them both.  
  
They’d rented a coastal home for a few days last summer, sand sloping into the sea and jellyfish spread out like cellophane across the beach with the sun fading behind them. In the dimming light they look happy and in love. In the photo Charlotte is pulling Becky into her with Becky’s head resting against the lean muscles of Charlotte’s arms and her body pressed tightly against Charlotte’s.  
  
“When was this taken again?” Charlotte croaks and there’s a clear break in her voice.  
  
“About nine months ago,” Becky answers.  
  
“It’s lovely.” Charlotte says it with a smile on her face but her eyes betray her: deep down, a part of her was clinging on to the hope that she’d remember it. She doesn’t. "We look happy."

Becky then watches as Charlotte opens the door to the ensuite bathroom and steps inside, looking around before back pedaling out; she watches as Charlotte’s fingers dance across the fresh duvet cover on the bed; she watches as Charlotte lifts up a pillow and gives it a little scrunch.  
  
Charlotte is like a soldier assessing new territory.  
  
"We were happy,” Becky finally says.

*****

 _… and it just don't matter now as little by little we gave you everything you ever dreamed of, little by little the wheels of your life have slowly fallen off, little by little you have to give it all in all your life…  
  
_Becky kills the engine and the song that’s playing cuts out too. She sits for a moment before she looks up and out the window. The apartment is in total darkness. It makes her feel like she’s going home to no one and nothing which is ironic really because she knows Charlotte is in the apartment and probably asleep. It’s almost been two months and they’ve kinda settled into a stuttering sort of rhythm. Charlotte is relearning how to live with Becky and Becky, well, Becky is just plain struggling with the whole thing.  
  
But she doesn’t want to tell Charlotte that because she knows Charlotte will feel guilty and that will make the whole situation even worse.  
  
It’s difficult.  
  
More difficult than Becky was prepared for if she’s being totally honest with herself.  
  
And she knows that Charlotte has noticed on some level because Charlotte is a lot of things but stupid isn't one of them.  
  
The first few times Becky came home late last week Charlotte had left the light on for her but now there’s nothing and Becky feels awful, so maybe she should just tell Charlotte that she’s struggling because maybe it actually can’t get worse. You see, it’s okay to have the weight of the world on your shoulders at times as long as you know when to unload it; Becky thinks she’s long since passed that point, and the weight of it all is beginning to drag her down. It gnaws away at her gut as she gets out of her car and makes her way towards the front door of the building.  
  
Trying to balance everything right now is like juggling with no hands.

It’s frustrating to tell Charlotte everything that she’s already heard about Becky; it’s frustrating to tell Charlotte stories about events that she’s been apart of and it’s frustrating to tell Charlotte about important intimate moments between them that she should remember herself.  
  
And it’s not Charlotte’s fault, Becky knows that logically, but emotionally she is just getting infuriated with everything. It’s like banging your head against the wall repeatedly. She just wishes more than anything that there was something she could do to spark some sort of memory in Charlotte.  
  
Becky wants to tell Charlotte that she loves her and not have to worry about it and she wants to hug Charlotte before she goes to work like she used to do and she wants to take her and kiss her now, God she wants to kiss her more than anything. The urge is there, rocketing around her veins but she knows that she can’t.  
  
And she hasn’t.  
  
When she makes her way into the apartment she doesn’t bother putting the lights on. She locks the door and makes her way towards the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. She’s just unscrewed the cap when Charlotte’s voice breaks the silence and Becky’s heart almost jumps out of her chest.  
  
“Where have you been?”  
  
“Holy fuckin’ shit, Charlotte!” Becky puts her hand over her chest so that if her heart does manage to break free she can hold it in place where it should be and give the paramedics a chance to save her.  
  
Charlotte is standing at the corner of the hallway that connects the rest of the apartment with the bedrooms. She has her hand against the wall and her body is half way hidden so that Becky can only see her from the waist upwards. She looks tired and angry and upset.  
  
“I was at work.”  
  
“Until this time? Really?”  
  
“I called in to see Finn too.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
Becky can feel her chest constrict at the sound of Charlotte’s voice, she’s hurt and it is all Becky’s fault. Charlotte’s eyes are wide and wild and Becky knows she’s made a fuck up of things. Becky draws in a breath and then lets it out in a slow sigh.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“I don’t know what else to do, Becky,” Charlotte’s voice is quiet, quieter than Becky has ever heard it, even quieter than the first time Charlotte had whispered that she loved Becky two and a half years ago. “It feels like you’re testing me – “  
  
“Charlotte.”  
  
Becky watches as Charlotte takes in a deep breath that mirrors her own and tears appear in her eyes, Becky can see them shimmering in the darkness. A whisper of a whimper bubbles up from the back of Charlotte’s throat and then she makes a noise that sounds more like a laugh than a cry.  
  
“And I don’t have the answers you’re looking for, Becky. I just don’t have the answers so I know I’m failing your tests and I know you’re angry at me but I’m trying to remember all the time, I swear I am.”  
  
“Hey, nah. I’m not angry _at_ you Charlotte. I could never be angry at you.”  
  
“Then what? If you can’t deal with me anymore or just don’t want to then please, just tell me so I can go elsewhere. Or if you’ve met someone else then tell me, I’ll get it.”  
  
Becky feels the horror clawing at her throat then. The possibility that Charlotte might leave has her chest catching fire and there’s an empty hollow where her heart should be beating but she’s not sure she feels it anymore.  
  
“No! There’s no one else! I’m just –“  
  
“Just what, Becky?”  
  
Becky doesn’t really know how to tell Charlotte about the war that’s playing out in her mind and in her emotions. The frustration is eating at her like some sort of disease and she can feel the ground underneath them shake but she has no idea about how to stop it.  
  
She doesn’t really know how to explain to Charlotte that while she might look the same and sound the same and laugh the same she _isn’t_ the same anymore. There are times when Becky wants to just surrender to this new life that they are half building together and there are other times where Becky wants to scream and never stop because of everything they have apparently lost together.  
  
And Becky knows that Charlotte might remember at some point. The doctor had specifically told her that it is more than possible that Charlotte’s memory may come back in snippets or in large chunks at some stage. But there’s a little voice in the back of Becky’s head that she’s tried to ignore that is asking her ‘ _but what if Charlotte’s memory doesn’t come back? Then what are you gonna do?’  
  
_And honestly, Becky doesn’t have the answer to that right now.  
  
It’s like operating in heavy fog.  
  
There are parts of Becky that want to take Charlotte and kiss her until _she_ forgets everything and there are parts of her that want to push Charlotte away because Becky knows that if she does kiss her then she is a goner. There are parts of her that want to cry against the safety of Charlotte’s chest and neck like she used to do when she was upset, and then there are parts of her that don’t want to cry at all because she’s stubborn as hell and crying would feel like admitting defeat to this situation.  
  
Becky doesn’t know how to say that no matter what she _loves_ Charlotte and she doesn’t think she will ever be able to stop even if Charlotte doesn’t love _her_ right now and that is a pretty terrifying thought. Until she had met Charlotte, Becky had never dreamed of what it would feel like to love someone so much; of all the things that had surprised her in her life, that is what astonished her the most and it still does. She thinks the tenderness it has left in her heart is like a deep bruise that will never go away no matter how much time passes.  
  
And Becky knows that it doesn’t matter how many times she goes over this in her head, she will never throw in the towel and walk away from Charlotte, regardless of what happens from now on in. Charlotte is inside of her, woven into the very bones of her body, and as much as Becky might need her lungs and her heart and everything else that keeps her body functioning, she knows she needs Charlotte just as much.  
  
“I’m just struggling,” Becky eventually answers, and the answer, while it may sound simple, isn’t simple at all. It’s loaded with unspoken words and unshed tears and hidden emotion.

“So am I.”  
  
Charlotte slides down the wall then and Becky can tell that she’s crying, she can hear the hiccup in Charlotte’s chest and she sees the arm that flies towards her face to wipe the tears away.  
  
“I come home from my dad’s or whatever, and you’re not here anymore, Becky. And I know you’re avoiding me and it hurts. I can’t explain why it hurts so much because really I've only known you for a few months but I know that it does. I can feel the ache right here in my chest.” Charlotte’s hand moves towards her sternum and even through the darkness Becky can see her hand fist in the fabric of the pyjama top she is wearing.  
  
“Am sorry. I just… I knew this would be difficult but…” Becky trails off and blows her cheeks out. “I’ll be better for you, Charlotte. For both of us.”  
  
Becky’s starting to cry now too, she can feel the tears stinging her eyes and she kneels down so that Charlotte can see her properly. She leans back on her heels and then takes both of Charlotte’s hands into her own, pulling them onto her thighs and using her thumb to skim over the skin on the back of Charlotte’s hands and her hands are cool to the touch. Charlotte has obviously been waiting up for her.  
  
“I’m here, Charlotte.”  
  
“I know that this must be tough for you,” Charlotte begins and she sniffs away the tears that are still spilling, “but talk to me about it, I probably won’t be much use but I just want to help you too.”  
  
Becky shakes her head and for some reason Charlotte shivers because the look Becky gives her afterwards feels _familiar_ and not just from the last couple of months _._ Somewhere deep inside of her there’s a tickle of recognition like she’s been on the end of that look before. And granted, she probably has been but still she can _feel_ it this time.  
  
“As you’re probably figuring out,” Becky says as she moves so that she’s sitting next to Charlotte with her back against the wall, “I don’t always handle things in the right way. I do stuff and then think about the consequences later.”  
  
“You know that makes you kind of stupid, right?”  
  
Becky smiles and puts her arm through Charlotte’s own. She’s always careful to keep her distance because she doesn’t want Charlotte to think that she wants anything from her because Becky doesn’t, Becky just wants Charlotte to be happy and comfortable in this place they call home, but something tells her Charlotte won’t mind right now.  
  
“Y’know you’ve said that to me before.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Oh, yeah. A few times,” Becky confirms.  
  
“Well, I’m saying it again, Becky.”  
  
“I hear you.”  
  
They sit like that for over an hour. Becky can feel herself starting to doze and she rests her head back against the wall. Charlotte is curled up against her side and Becky’s not entirely sure if Charlotte is asleep too. She doesn’t think so but she can’t be certain. She attempts to move her arm but Charlotte tugs it back into place.  
  
“Two more minutes,” Charlotte whispers.  
  
“M’kay.”  
  
The next time Becky opens her eyes her back is aching and her neck is at such an awkward angle that she actually has to use her free hand to turn it back to its normal position. Charlotte is still relaxed against her side and while Becky is loathe to move she knows it’ll be better for them both to get a proper night’s sleep.  
  
“Charlotte,” she murmurs, her voice still gravelly. “Charlotte, c’mon.”  
  
They awkwardly get to their feet and Charlotte still doesn’t let go of her, Becky’s tired and aching and all she wants to do is sleep but she’s just promised to be better at this and so she will be. She walks Charlotte back to the bedroom before she goes to turn away but Charlotte still doesn’t let go of her arm.  
  
“Stay with me, Becky.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Charlotte,” Becky says quickly.  
  
“Please,” comes the hushed reply and Charlotte never takes her eyes off of Becky, not even when she blinks.  
  
Becky plans on standing her ground. She plans on taking a step or two back and allowing some space to form inbetween them. She plans on going to the bed that she calls her own these days and she plans on doing it now.

That’s the funny thing about plans though, they often go awry.  
  
When she looks up Charlotte is looking at her with _that_ pout. The one that Becky knows all too well and it’s the pout that Becky can never, ever say no to even if she wants to. Usually she can swipe at it gently with her thumb or kiss it away and even though she can’t do any of them now she’s still weak to it. She’s a total sucker for it in all honesty.  
  
“Okay, give me a minute to get changed and I’ll come back.”  
  
“You promise?” Charlotte asks and automatically holds out her hand, her fingers are all curled into a fist except her pinky. “Pinky promise?”  
  
Becky’s throat bobs and then she swallows and holds her own pinky out. “Pinky promise.”  
  
After quickly changing Becky finds herself back in the room that they used to call their own. Charlotte is already in bed and the duvet has been pulled back for Becky to slide in beside her. The funny thing about it all is that this is actually Becky’s side of the bed and she wants to laugh at that, she can feel it sparking at the back of her throat ready to erupt. Her mouth twitches and she thumbs at the edge of the duvet cover until her heart stops galloping.  
  
“I feel like you’re about to laugh at something,” Charlotte comments quietly, as if she can read Becky’s mind.  
  
“Nah, it’s just… this is my side of the bed.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“Seriously.”  
  
They lay side-by-side but not touching until Becky’s foot accidentally brushes against Charlotte’s leg and she pulls it away quickly. She can feel the heat of Charlotte’s body next to her, just inches away but she doesn’t move any closer and neither does Charlotte.  
  
The sound of Charlotte breathing next to her reminds Becky, as it often does now, of how vulnerable Charlotte is. And how vulnerable they are because of how much Becky loves her. The fear – that something else could happen to her at any moment, something Becky would be helpless to stop again – has become so permanent that she sometimes pictures it growing out the center of her chest like an extra limb.  
  
“Are you still awake?” Charlotte asks after several minutes of cramped silence.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Can I tell you something?”  
  
“Course you can.”  
  
Charlotte turns onto her side and Becky watches as she leans up on her elbow. There’s blonde hair falling around her face and Becky has to stop herself from reaching out to run her fingers through it.  
  
Becky wants to kiss her.  
  
She can’t.  
  
“I wish I remembered what it was like to fall asleep with you.”  
  
The words make Becky’s heart pound painfully against her rib cage. It takes her brain a few seconds to catch up with what Charlotte is implying and then another few seconds for her brain to actually conjure up words so that she can form a coherent reply.  
  
“I wish you remembered too.”  
  
“Then help me to.”  
  
Becky can’t resist her, has never been able to and will never be able to but that’s okay, she thinks, there are worse vices in life. “Alright.”  
  
Becky stretches out her arm so that it ends up alongside Charlotte’s head and Charlotte gets the message. She turns onto her other side so that she’s facing away from Becky and Becky guides her backwards a little so that Charlotte’s back is pressed in tight against her chest.  
  
Becky can feel the dip of Charlotte’s waist under her hand; the delicate curve of muscle and bone, and the way her hand creeps forward just a little so that it’s resting against Charlotte’s stomach.  
  
“Things don’t always make a lot of sense to me right now but this? This makes sense to me, Becky. I don't think anyone could forget this, not really anyway.”  
  
Charlotte’s hand sits atop of Becky’s against her stomach and her fingers slip into the spaces beside Becky’s own.  
  
Becky simply closes her eyes and clamps her mouth shut. She’s not gonna cry. She’s definitely not gonna cry. She’s absolutely not gonna cry.  
  
She’s probably gonna cry.  
  
“Does it make sense to you?”  
  
The uncertainty in Charlotte’s voice makes Becky’s heart ache all over again.  
  
“Yeah, it does,” Becky eventually murmurs back. “Now sleep.”  
  
“Goodnight, Becky.”  
  
“G’night.”  
  
For the first time in months Charlotte dreams.


	3. make it slow and we'll come together fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the last chapter was unbelievable so thank you. I can't believe this nearly has 100 kudos, you guys are awesome!
> 
> The end of this chapter is very, very soft so just prepare yourself! 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr if you wish: borntorunnn

Becky is laid in bed next to her, body pressed against Charlotte’s left side and her head next to Charlotte’s shoulder. The soft rhythmic rise and fall of her chest soothes Charlotte. She is the calm in Charlotte’s life, the stable force in this current spell of chaos.  
  
“You’re tense,” Becky says, her thumb brushing over Charlotte’s arm.  
  
“And you snore.”  
  
Becky hadn’t really comprehended how much she missed sharing a bed with Charlotte. Sure, she missed it and she knew that, but she hadn’t really realised how much. And the funny thing is that at this very moment, she is lying right against Charlotte, looking up and admiring her jaw, her lips, her perfectly regular nose and sleepy eyes.  
  
If Becky reaches out, she can touch her, and yet she still misses her.  
  
It’s kinda silly.  
  
“Shut up, I don’t snore.”  
  
“You do,” Charlotte says with a grin that’s hidden by the darkness, “but I don’t mind.”  
  
“It’s still dark outside, try and get back to sleep, you’ll feel better for it,” Becky speaks against Charlotte’s shoulder. Her voice is thick and heavy with sleep, and her hand moves so that she can wrap her fingers around Charlotte’s wrist. “Trust me.”  
  
“I know, my mind is just all over the place at times.”  
  
Becky knows sleep won’t be coming any time soon again now so she rolls onto her side and props herself up on her elbow so that she can look at Charlotte who is still on her back. “You wanna talk about it?”  
  
“No, I’m okay.”  
  
“Charlotte,” Becky warns.  
  
Charlotte doesn’t speak, instead she leans up so that she’s facing Becky. She reaches across and takes Becky’s hand, pressing it against her chest. “Do you feel that?”  
  
Becky can feel Charlotte’s heart pit pattering against her palm. It’s a strange sensation, she’s felt Charlotte’s heart beating before – usually under her head - but it seems different in this situation, like it’s a new overwhelmingly intimate moment between them. She sees Charlotte’s throat shift and then her mouth moves like she wants to say something but nothing comes out.  
  
“Hey, you’re okay, I’ve got you, Charlotte.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Here.” Becky moves Charlotte’s hand this time so that Charlotte’s mirrors hers on her own chest. “You feel that?”  
  
“Yeah,” Charlotte finally murmurs, her voice almost lost to the quiet of the bedroom.  
  
“I’m right here,” Becky says.

*****

Charlotte looks up from her spot at the kitchen breakfast bar at Becky whose face remains relatively impassive as she looks out the window. Becky’s still in her t-shirt and shorts that she wears to bed and her eyes still look a bit blurry with sleep. She isn’t fully awake yet.  
  
The first thing that Charlotte thinks of though is that Becky looks relaxed for the first time in weeks. She sees it when she catches Becky looking at her at times and there’s an expression on her face that Charlotte can’t read, has _forgotten_ how to read but she knows without any doubt that it’s not a bad expression. She knows when it's bad because Becky gets a little angry twitch in her jaw and her brows lower dangerously. She is getting better at picking up on what Becky thinks and feels without Becky needing to say anything.  
  
But Charlotte still wishes she could help that process along.  
  
They don’t sleep in separate beds anymore. It’s never said out loud and they don’t talk about it but Becky has just sort of migrated back into the main bedroom and Charlotte has basically let her because there’s nothing more welcoming than crawling into bed with Becky every night.  
  
Sometimes Becky will share quiet confessions of their life before the accident; sometimes she will share mundane stories from her day at work; and sometimes she will infuriate Charlotte by asking her silly questions like ‘ _have you ever noticed that your tongue rests on the top of your mouth rather than the bottom? Unless you breathe through your mouth then it rests on the bottom’._ Becky had annoyed Charlotte so much that night that her tongue actually felt uncomfortable in her mouth and Becky had made her laugh until her ribs ached and she’d pleaded with Becky to stop because she genuinely didn’t think she could laugh anymore.  
  
She goes to bed in Becky’s arms praying that tomorrow will be a new day and things will come back to her. She wishes that she remembered what all of Becky’s smiles mean because Becky has a fair few and she’s still figuring them all out but she's getting there. She wishes that something – anything - could just ignite a memory or a moment or a place that could lead to another moment or place and then another and so on.  
  
She brings the sheets of paper she has in front of her together, leafing past three or four pages, until they are all in the right order. She goes through them once more before she looks back across at Becky; her eyes are still on the window. Charlotte is jittery and anxious and she really doesn’t want this to look stupid.  
  
“Becky,” Charlotte says from where she is sitting then slipping off the stool with ease. “Can I show you something?”  
  
“I dunno why you ask me cause you know I’m gonna say yes.”  
  
“Here.”  
  
“What’s this?” Becky asks as she stands and reaches for the small stack of paper.  
  
She skims through them with her eyes and she recognises the things written down on the paper. The day Charlotte woke up from her accident and asked if she was a Lynch too. How having cereal together in the morning is a big connector between them even though Charlotte still can’t figure out why. How Becky had made her laugh until her sides almost split a few nights ago. There are pages of similar comments written down.  
  
“I write down everything I can remember you telling me, well everything that I think is important about us. I don’t want to forget anything again.”  
  
“Charlotte,” Becky says, “you’re not gonna forget again.”  
  
Charlotte moves before she can talk herself out of it, slipping through the barrier of Becky’s personal space. She holds her breath and then runs her hands over the curves of Becky’s hips and then up over the muscles of her lean back before settling around her neck. She wraps herself around Becky in a hug and lays her head on Becky’s shoulder.  
  
Becky stills for a second before her body relaxes against Charlotte’s own. Becky’s arms wrap around her and Charlotte can feel the ghost of Becky’s mouth against her neck as she finally breathes out.

The pages Charlotte had given Becky are scattered somewhere underneath them and when Becky speaks the words seep into Charlotte’s very being – she believes them.  
  
“It’s okay,” Becky whispers against her collarbone and Charlotte feels the warmth of Becky calming her, “I’ve got you. You’re not gonna forget again.”  
  
Charlotte feels calm for the first time that morning, like she can breathe again. It feels so good that for just a second she thinks she might do something really stupid like laugh or, even worse, cry.

*****

Things are going well, the cynic in Becky might even say that things are going _too_ well. Her and Charlotte have settled into a much easier and better rhythm now. Becky still wants to kiss her and sometimes she’s certain that Charlotte wants to kiss her too but they don’t and it’s not mentioned but that’s fine, it can wait for now.  
  
The problem is, she knows that the other shoe has to drop at some point. It’s never been plain sailing for them throughout this journey and she knows that’s probably not going to change now. What she doesn’t anticipate, however, are things going tits up while her and Charlotte are doing something so unremarkable like having lunch at the park.  
  
It starts off as nothing kind of day at the end of a nothing kind of week.  
  
They have breakfast in the morning together like usual. Hell has also apparently frozen over because Becky had actually volunteered to go on a run with Charlotte, and now they are in the park eating lunch like a few others who have the same idea: students, businessmen and a few birds who have decided to join them in an attempt to get scraps of food.  
  
They talk about everything and nothing. Charlotte asks if Becky wants to go to her dad’s annual charity gala with her and Becky looks at her with that silly smile that makes Charlotte’s heart dip. Becky also tells her that last year the gala had a 50’s theme and Becky went as an Irish Mobster and that only makes Charlotte smile harder. Charlotte talks about the change in the weather and Becky tells her to stop immediately because it makes them sound like they are sixty and Becky just isn’t having any of it.  
  
It’s easy and it’s comfortable, and then they bump into Carmella and things just go south after that. Becky feels like she’s watching a car accident happen in slow motion and there’s nothing she can do to stop it from happening. It's like an eerie case of deja vu.  
  
The introduction is awkward because Charlotte has no memory of who Carmella is and Carmella is not the subtlest person Becky has ever met. In fact, she’s about as subtle as a hand grenade. They get past that though and the conversation is jilted but manageable. But then Carmella makes an innocuous joke and Becky knows it has wounded Charlotte, she can see it written all over Charlotte’s face. Becky says their goodbyes after that and takes Charlotte by the arm so that they are walking away.  
  
“Charlotte, Carmella didn’t mean anything by it, that’s just her. She’s not – “  
  
“It’s not the point,” Charlotte snaps back and Becky knows that no amount of consoling or convincing is going to win her this argument, she's just going to have to steer through the impending storm. “I know I’ve forgotten things, important things and people for that matter, but I don’t need people making shitty jokes about it!”  
  
“Carmella didn’t – “  
  
“I’m going for a walk, Becky. I just need some air. I’ll be home later.”  
  
-  
  
The next time Charlotte sees Becky she sees three of her. Honest to God there are three Becky’s. Maybe two Becky’s if she squints a little and closes one eye. She mentally congratulates herself for having the ability to make one Becky disappear.  
  
“Becky!” she calls and it the slur in her words make it sound more like ‘Beckeee’  
  
Charlotte then narrows her eyes in suspicion and wonders how Becky has even found her here in this dive bar. She thinks it must have something to do with the man behind the bar with the big orange mohawk because Becky offers him a nod of thank you and Charlotte now frowns in dislike. That guy is a damn traitor.  
  
“Enjoyin’ yourself are we?” Becky says as she slides into the booth across from Charlotte. The table is littered with tall cocktail glasses and straws, and Becky counts seven in total, it looks like Charlotte is attempting to go through the entire menu. She’s having quite the party to herself.  
  
“Yes!” Charlotte squeals happily. “The big bartender guy was my friend but I think he called you so he’s not my friend no more.”  
  
“He did call me.” Becky’s tone is different and Charlotte’s not really sure if it’s good. It actually sounds a tad menacing and Charlotte swallows. She thinks she might be in trouble.  
  
“Am I in trouble?”  
  
“Why would you be in trouble, Charlotte? It’s not like you bailed on me and never came home and never answered your phone when I called you.”  
  
She’s definitely in trouble.  
  
She needs another cocktail.  
  
She lifts her hand so that she can grab the barman’s attention and she points to the next cocktail down on the list. It’s some whisky based concoction that she knows she probably won’t like the taste of but she’s willing to try it anyway because why the hell not?  
  
She watches as the barman looks away from her and then his eyes fall on Becky and honestly, who do they think they are? She is a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions thank you very much; she doesn’t need any sort of babysitter.  
  
“It’s fine, Sheamus,” Becky eventually says, “let her have whatever she wants.”  
  
Becky folds her arms across her chest and watches as Charlotte fiddles with a straw. Sheamus returns in a couple of minutes with the drink for Charlotte. It’s in a smaller, rounder glass and the liquid is dark amber in colour, there are several spirals of lemon rind around the rim of the glass too and even Charlotte seems unsure about it. Becky’s throat is burning just looking at it.  
  
Charlotte reaches for it and takes a sip. Becky has to hand it to her, Charlotte tries – valiantly for that matter – to make it seem like she’s enjoying it but Becky knows that she isn’t. She can see the little grimace tugging at Charlotte’s lips and the way her eyes widen ever so slightly when the liquid travels down her throat.  
  
“Getting drunk doesn’t make things better, Charlotte. Just because you’re pushing them away doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”  
  
Charlotte ignores Becky and takes a larger gulp of the drink. It burns a little. Okay, it burns a lot.  
  
“It’s okay to still be upset over what’s happened, it’s okay to feel that. Y’know it’s gotten to me at times too.”  
  
Charlotte feels her eyes fill with tears and she knows that she will not be able to speak right now. She’s trembling. She wants to leave.  
  
“It’s okay, Charlotte.”  
  
Charlotte’s allowed a crack in her façade and now the wall is crumbling. Her hands tighten around her glass. Her face is tense with fear. The skin on her neck and chest are dotted with goosebumps. That is what happens when the adrenaline surge stops and the body indulges in the panic that it is trying so hard to keep at bay.  
  
“It’s okay,” Becky says again.  
  
Charlotte seems to consider Becky’s words, taking several long breaths that Becky knows is her gathering herself. She watches it happen. Charlotte sets her shoulders back and lifts her chin. Only her eyes give away the fact that she is hammered.  
  
The universe is full of people who can’t get over things. There’s no closure and no peace but you can get through things, that’s what Becky thinks anyway. You can head towards the light and fight like hell to dig yourself out of the hole that you’re in.  
  
And that’s exactly what they are going to do.

That’s what they _have_ been doing and Becky isn’t going to let Charlotte quit on her – them - now.  
  
“The past is what we make it, Charlotte. We can use it to keep hurting or we can use it to make us stronger. I’m strong, Charlotte, but you’re stronger. So finish you drink and enjoy it because afterwards I’m taking you home.”

*****

Becky stands in front of the mirror and frowns for what feels like the twentieth time. This charity gala is doing nothing for her blood pressure. Her tie is wrong – again – and she can’t for the life of her get it right. The knot is either too small or too big and it’s all a bit of a shambles. The white shirt she’s wearing is perfectly crisp and fresh and she’s going to end up ruining it if she can’t get this damn tie right.  
  
There’s an air of quiet confidence around her but there’s no arrogance in her demeanor. She looks good and she knows it, and there’s nothing wrong with that at all.  
  
She tries again with the tie and fails.  
  
Giving up she focuses on the cuff links. They are sleek silver in colour and look like the gear of a watch, the tiny cogs actually rotate and move when she does. They’d been a gift from Charlotte last Christmas and Becky loves them. She clips the one on her left wrist into place and then the one on her right wrist.  
  
Becky’s got her right hand in her trouser pocket and her eyes still diverted downwards on the damn tie when she walks into the living room. Her eyes finally shift back upwards when she hears Charlotte chuckle at her and Charlotte looks… wow.  
  
She’s dressed to the nines in a stunning, deep red dress that matches the colour of Becky’s tie. It’s strapless, which shows off her shoulders and collarbones. She’s looking over her shoulder at Becky as she clips in an earring and Becky can’t take her eyes off of her. In some small victory she manages to stop her jaw from hitting the floor.  
  
“You look incredible, Charlotte.” Becky says the words low and slowly so that Charlotte knows that they are honest and how could they not be really? Charlotte is a vision.  
  
Charlotte feels something ghost through her at Becky’s words. She thinks Becky’s eyes flash with a hint of lust and possessiveness and she _feels_ it. Charlotte wonders what else Becky is thinking in that moment but she doesn’t ask, she thinks it’s probably better that she doesn’t or they might not leave this room.  
  
Charlotte wants to kiss her.  
  
“So do you. Do you need help with that tie?”  
  
Becky glances down at the tie that’s wrapped loosely around her neck before her eyes flit upwards and Charlotte is trapped under Becky’s gaze before she can even move. “Yeah, please. It’s usually you who does it for me.”  
  
It strikes Charlotte how quiet the apartment has suddenly become. She doesn’t hear any sounds of neighbours and there’s no traffic outside, all she can hear is the sound of herself breathing. Charlotte takes a step towards Becky and then reaches for each end of the tie with both hands.  
  
She’s facing Becky now but Becky has to look up slightly to catch her eyes. Becky looks like she is studying her and Charlotte feels the air grow thick and electric between them as she crosses the material of the tie before taking the wider end of the tie up and then down through the loop. She tightens it slowly so that it rests near Becky’s throat and then she folds the collar of the shirt down. She runs her hands down Becky’s shoulders and arms and then she’s holding both of Becky’s hands in her own.

Becky looks _hot.  
  
_Charlotte definitely wants to kiss her and maybe she should.  
  
She glances down at Becky and Becky only smiles in return, it’s one of those shy smiles that Charlotte is still trying to figure out. They end up just staring at each other, and Charlotte sees Becky’s eyes dip towards her lips and it’s enough for Charlotte to feel an uptick in her heartbeat.  
  
Maybe Becky wants to kiss her too.  
  
She expects Becky to lean forward, she even braces herself for it but it doesn’t happen.  
  
Before Charlotte can do anything, however, the spell her and Becky are in is broken as she hears Sasha and Bayley in the hallway. Specifically, she hears Sasha laugh. It’s girly and melodic and it always sounds right coming from her mouth, Charlotte also knows that Bayley will have been the cause of that laugh.  
  
“Uh, how did they get in the building?” Becky asks, and she drops Charlotte’s hands reluctantly.  
  
When she opens the door, Charlotte is greeted with big smiles and gorgeous dresses. “How did you get up here?”  
  
“Someone was coming out of the building while we were coming in, you guys ready?” Sasha asks before she adds, “you both look gorgeous!”  
  
“We’re ready,” Becky says with an eye roll, “I just need to get my jacket.”  
  
When Becky returns from getting her jacket, the other three are already in the hallway waiting for her. She can hear them laughing about something. She slips the jacket on and it fits her shoulders perfectly so that when she buttons it it highlights her shape.  
  
She flicks the lights off in the apartment and curses her own stupidity.  
  
She should have kissed Charlotte.  
  
-  
  
When they arrive into the main gathering area, the place is jam packed full of people in expensive suits and dresses debating on how best to spend their money for the evening. The event is almost in full flow: the loud buzz of conversation; music playing both inside the place and outside in the gardens; big screens are focused on the casino tables at the far end of the room; the bar is stowed and waiters are flitting in and out of the crowd with various drinks.  
  
“You look frustrated, Becky,” Bayley says with a half smile, trying to make her concern seem less profound.  
  
“Nah, I’m fine.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
Becky glances around and then down at her shirt and tie and then her shoes. Does she look weary? Distressed? Emotional? Or has she just become that easy to read nowadays?  
  
“All good, Bayley.”  
  
“Okay,” Bayley replies, and then there’s a minor hesitation, as if she wants to add something on to what she’s already asked but she doesn’t and Becky doesn’t raise it either. “How long do you think they’ll be?”  
  
“Charlotte and Sasha touching up their make up?” Becky queries more to herself than to Bayley, “not gonna lie, we might die first.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“But don’t worry, Bayley, you believe in that whole reincarnation thing so you should be fine.”  
  
When Charlotte and Sasha do return, Becky watches as Sasha slides an arm around Bayley’s waist, drawing her close and sharing an inside joke. She feels a slight swell of jealously that even takes her by surprise.  
  
-  
  
Becky picks up the glass of champagne that Sasha has brought to their table, it has a fresh strawberry floating at the top of it around the bubbles. It’s all very fancy as it usually is at these type of things.  
  
“Do you think that counts as one of our five a day?” Sasha asks with a grin.  
  
Becky laughs and takes a drink of the expensive tasting alcohol, enjoying the subtle burn at the back of her throat. “I’ll tell you what, Sasha, bring me another four of em’ and I’ll tell you.”  
  
“You look dapper Becky, I am so impressed!”  
  
“You say that like you’ve never seen me dressed up before.”  
  
Becky catches Charlotte’s eye from across the room and Sasha follows her stare. Charlotte’s standing in amongst a small group of older men who Sasha thinks must be her father’s friends. She looks bored as hell but she’s glowing when she smiles at Becky.  
  
“She looks incredible.”  
  
Becky doesn’t need to ask who Sasha is talking about. “She’s gorgeous.”  
  
-  
  
By the time nine in the evening rolls around, Becky has donated more than she would like to admit to the blackjack table. She’d started off well but it had just gotten progressively worse until she’d walked away from the table in petty disgust. Sasha and Charlotte are at their table chatting animatedly about something and it’s the happiest she’s seen Charlotte in months.  
  
She grabs the attention of the woman behind the bar and orders a round of drinks before she feels eyes on her from her right hand side. Becky tries to fight the grimace that’s beginning to unfurl on her face but it’s not really working.  
  
“Lynch. This seat taken?”  
  
“I wouldn’t know, I’m not staying Corbin.”  
  
Corbin wears a dark, brooding stare as though he owns it. Does own it. Everyone knows the type: one of those self assured cocky idiots that love to be the center of attention and then sulk like a petulant child when they aren’t.  
  
“How is Charlotte?”  
  
“She’s fine. Grand actually.”  
  
“There’s always space in my bed, Becky, if you’re missing out, you know that,” Corbin jokes as he shoves at her arm gently.  
  
Becky rolls her eyes so hard that it physically hurts, and then she turns and looks him in the eye. She can never bite her tongue, even when she probably should. “The only time you will ever lay next to me, Corbin, is if we’re run down by the same car an’ probably not even then cause I’ll be the one driving the fuckin’ thing.”  
  
Charlotte watches as the woman behind the bar almost shines when Becky turns her attention back onto her as she places their drinks down onto a tray, and the man who’s sitting next to Becky also laughs easily at whatever Becky has just said. Charlotte feels a faint stir of recognition at his face but she can’t place him and she doesn't think she wants to.  
  
Charlotte has never really been one to get jealous but she can feel that ugly feeling tonight. It creeps into her stomach and starts working up some sort of storm: people other than _her_ want Becky and it’s not that she blames them because she doesn’t, she understands it completely. But it’s unsettling and aggravating and she just doesn’t like it.  
  
She doesn’t like it one bit.  
  
Becky finds her with her eyes a moment later and she rolls her them fondly as if she is having the worst time ever, and Charlotte can’t help but smile back before she turns her head towards the dance floor.  
  
The band have started playing some slow crooning type of song, the kind of song that gets couples up on their feet to dance so she’s not surprised to see Sasha drag Bayley up by the hand, turning slowly before putting her arms around Bayley’s neck and swaying slowly.  
  
They look happy and in love and Charlotte is jealous, it’s fucking ridiculous.  
  
She’s being ridiculous.  
  
“Wanna dance?”  
  
Becky’s suddenly by Charlotte’s side, and she’s holding her hand out and there’s an eyebrow arched in a challenge.  
  
“I can’t dance, Becky,” Charlotte answers almost instantly.  
  
Becky shrugs. “I know, and neither can I.”  
  
She doesn’t miss a beat as she takes possession of Becky’s hand. Becky leads her into the middle of the floor so that they are next to Sasha and Bayley, and Becky twirls her around gently before bringing Charlotte back towards her, their joined hands pressing against Becky’s chest.  
  
Charlotte looks down into dark eyes that are blazing in her direction and she swallows at the intensity of it all. Her free hand drapes loosely around Becky’s neck and they move together. Becky tries to hum along to the song even though it’s clear she has no clue what the song actually is and Charlotte can only smile as she rests her head next to Becky’s, pulling Becky even closer towards her. She feels safe and secure in Becky’s arms and she wonders how often they have danced like this together, she thinks it has been a lot. It feels like it has happened a lot.  
  
Then she sees the woman behind the bar still looking across at them – at Becky mostly – and it has her reeling again. She can feel the panic at the hollow of her throat just waiting to say hello to her.  
  
Everything is so overwhelming at times and it’s too much.  
  
She wants Becky too much.  
  
Becky feels Charlotte stiffen in her arms and she pulls back a little, concern colouring her voice. “You okay?”  
  
“I’m sorry, Becky, I can’t… I can’t do this,” she brokenly whispers and she’s surprised that she doesn’t burst into tears as she untangles herself from Becky’s arms. She takes a small step back like an invisible hand has just given her a hard shove.  
  
Everything hurts.  
  
When Becky calls her name she doesn’t look back.  
  
As Charlotte makes her way outside she has to admit, her family can throw a party. The grounds have been transformed into a wonderland. White lanterns glow in the darkened trees; torch lined paths are winding through smaller gardens that lead to hidden bars and food stalls; there’s a surprise around every corner. If Charlotte has to guess she’d estimate that there are around four hundred people here.  
  
Some people are even wearing masquerade masks but she can still recognise a fair few of them, mostly her father's friends. It’s the kind of party where you show up thinking you’ll not really see anyone and then you end up seeing everyone.  
  
The paths are full of slow moving guests, too caught up in the atmosphere or their own conversation to remember if they have an actual destination. The masks with feathers shed and the feathers float around in the air like leaves in the autumn time. The paths are coloured with splashes of red and purple and blue because of them.  
  
Charlotte finally gives up and darts past the couple in front of her, beads of gravel crunching loudly under her shoes. She navigates around everyone as best as she can, dodging and pivoting, sometimes even offering an apology when she bumps into someone. She keeps going until she reaches slate stairs that lead to a pool.  
  
The pool is a dark blue rectangle carved into a stone floor that overlooks a giant body of water. Lights the size of tennis balls float on the pools surface causing a rainbow of colours to blink in and out of existence. The slate stairs are lit with discreet lights, and lampposts stand sentry around the lake embankment alongside several wooden benches that have also been draped in tiny lights, it’s like they are waiting for her.  
  
She takes a few more steps forward and then she’s finally alone.  
  
She can hear the lake jutting against the shore and, further away up the stairs, the sound of people she’s just left behind laughing and joking. She can see the lights of other properties in the distance, just visible through the giant trees that surround the lake. The night sky is high and hard, like even the stars want to stay away and keep their distance from her.  
  
It’s cold and Charlotte’s skin almost vibrates from the chill. A few leaves catch in the slight breeze, scratching along the ground before they finally come to a stop and are still.  
  
She keeps her eyes on the stars and sure enough Becky comes.  
  
She’s found Charlotte with little fuss.  
  
Becky takes the stairs casually, with the easy motion of someone not in a hurry, not bothered and not flustered. When she gets to the bottom of the stairs she stops and Charlotte doesn’t move, she doesn’t say anything either.  
  
When Charlotte does eventually move and heads towards one of the benches, Becky follows.  
  
-  
  
“What are you afraid of?” Charlotte asks quietly from beside her. The pulsing music in the background is a jarring contrast to Charlotte’s voice and they’ve been sitting in silence for so long that Becky has to make sure that Charlotte’s voice isn’t just in her imagination.  
  
And Becky thinks she might now be getting to the crux of what has been bothering Charlotte tonight because it's clear that something has been going on in her head.  
  
“I’m not overly keen on spiders to be honest,” Becky answers with a slight smirk and Charlotte can only roll her eyes. “Here.” Becky stands and slips her suit jacket off her shoulders and drapes it over Charlotte’s instead.  
  
“I didn’t mean things like spiders.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Do you want to know what I’m afraid of?”  
  
Becky moves her arm along the back of the bench and she feels Charlotte relax into it a little. “Tell me.”  
  
“I’m afraid of you disappearing on me which sounds ridiculous because we live together and we go places together and we… we sleep in the same bed and wake up together but I worry all the time that you’ll get bored of that,” Charlotte stops for a second, struggling and then plows on anyway, “I’m afraid that I’m holding you back from any plans you’ve got or made.”  
  
“Charlotte – “  
  
“You could have anyone in that room, Becky. Man or woman and it wouldn’t matter, you could have them and you’d barely need to try. I seen everyone looking at you tonight.”  
  
“Charlotte – “  
  
“No, it’s fine. I get it. They all think because of what’s happened to me you’re available or whatever and I suppose you are in some way, you – “  
  
“Woah, would you let me talk?” Becky puts her hand into the air in protest, “that’s not true.”  
  
“It is.”  
  
“It really isn’t.”  
  
“Becky, it’s been _months,_ my memory might never come back and you’ll be stuck – “  
  
“It doesn’t fuckin’ matter!” Becky all but shouts, “I want you in this life and I wanted you in the one before this and I’ll want you in the one after this. If I have to be stuck with anyone I want it to be you, Charlotte. Look at me. Hey, look at me.”  
  
Charlotte does look at her and Becky’s heart almost comes to a stop.  
  
Charlotte reaches out and tugs lightly on the tie that Becky’s wearing, the tie she fixed earlier on in the night when Becky couldn’t. She feels the soft fabric slip through her fingers and she hears Becky let out a gentle sigh in response.  
  
The warm feeling is back in her stomach. This is familiar. They have done this before and she knows it.  
  
She gets that feeling more frequently these days but it happens a lot around Becky. More than ever recently. It feels like every atom in her body is vibrating at a different frequency when it happens. It feels like someone in the back of her head is standing up on their tiptoes and waving at her so that she will pay attention to them.  
  
And she does pay attention to them. She knows what that little figment in her head is trying to tell her but she can’t quite extract all the finer details just yet.  
  
“I’ve done this before, haven’t I?”  
  
“Yeah, every time I wear a tie,” Becky confirms.  
  
“We’ve danced together a lot too, haven’t we?”  
  
“Every morning before work I’d make you dance with me even if it was just for a minute and it didn’t matter what song you played... we’d just roll with it.”  
  
Becky moves her head downwards and nudges Charlotte’s nose with her own. She’s flooded with the memory of the last time she’d done that: the morning of Charlotte’s accident. They’d woken up late after a late night and Becky had clung on to Charlotte like a little koala bear because she hadn’t wanted to burst the very peaceful and very naked bubble that they were in.  
  
She swallows the memory down and decides to focus solely on the present because you really can’t do anything about the past except leave it there and move the hell on.  
  
“Why won’t you kiss me, Becky?”  
  
“I don’t want to push you.”  
  
“You’re not, I _want_ you to kiss me.”  
  
A smile blooms across Becky’s face, brief but bright.  
  
“Please,” Charlotte almost pleads, “just kiss me.”  
  
The distance between them fades away into nothing, the cool air around them cracking and igniting with the type of heat that has always belonged to them, and only them, and Becky feels that familiar pull deep inside her. The pleasant thrill that builds low in her stomach feels like it is anchoring her to that very spot.  
  
Becky presses the palm of her hand to Charlotte’s cheek and then she curves it around the bend of her neck so that she can pull Charlotte forward. She can’t stop it or resist it; the craving for Charlotte is too much. It always has been and Becky is only too happy to surrender to it again.  
  
Charlotte feels and hears Becky take a little intake of breath and she pulls tighter on Becky’s tie; she feels the way her own heart pounds against her chest like it’s in a race with something that she can’t see and she can feel the slight shake in her legs that comes with the anticipation.  
  
The kiss is a gentle whisper of lips; it’s encouraged by honesty and want and attraction. Charlotte pushes in deeper, more firmly, and Becky is only too happy to return the favour.  
  
Charlotte feels her heart gather speed and it thuds in her ears before calming and then Becky’s free hand is skimming across her thigh and her heart takes off again, soaring around her body so that every part of her feels it and she does feel it. She feels it _everywhere_ , from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. It stirs something deep inside of her that no memory could ever hold a candle to.  
  
It actually feels a lot like coming home.  
  
She feels the shudder of warmth under her skin; the way her bones seem to soften; and that euphoric dizzy feeling in her head because she knows that Becky meant every second of that kiss too.  
  
Becky sighs against her lips and pulls away and Charlotte can feel a slight tint of colour on her own cheeks. Becky’s lips are smudged and Charlotte can see her own lipstick on them. She wipes at it with her thumb and Becky kisses that too and then she kisses Charlotte’s wrist, right over the spot where her pulse is thrumming away to its own tune.  
  
Becky nudges her nose again and then leans her head against Charlotte’s. “I’m yours, Charlotte. I always have been and I always will be. And I don’t want anyone else in that room back there. I want the person sittin’ right here with me.”  
  
Charlotte thinks she knows what Becky’s confession really means.  
  
She knows that there is a hidden meaning underneath Becky’s words.

 _I love you. I love you. I love you._  
  
“I’m yours too, Becky.”


	4. there is no doubt you're in my heart now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicks off right where the last chapter ended and covers the span of a few days. 
> 
> Straight up: smut is not my writing forte, but I felt it was important to delve into their physical relationship and how that dynamic works, so I hope it is okay! 
> 
> Also, I know all the chapters have title’s from Guns N’ Roses song Patience and this isn’t any different but I actually wrote this to Daniela Andrade’s cover of ‘Heartbeats’ so yeah, if you know the song you’ll understand why!

It’s just after midnight when they arrive home and they only part when they enter the apartment. Becky lets Charlotte in first and Charlotte makes her way straight down the dark hallway towards the bedroom; she knows Becky will follow eventually, she always does. Becky just needs a minute to gather herself and that’s okay, Charlotte knows that.  
  
Charlotte can hear the blood in her ears and it's rushing around her body at break neck speed. Her heart thunders in her chest and she wills her lungs to expand so that she can take in more air. She knows what she _wants_ to happen tonight but she has no idea how to ask Becky for it. It’s an impossible sort of want that she has for Becky.  
  
After locking the door Becky wonders if she should give Charlotte some time but her feet move almost without her permission. She is weak and in love and she isn’t sure why she thought she’d be able to do anything else other than follow because she’d follow Charlotte to the moon and back if she had to.  
  
Charlotte’s in the middle of the room struggling with the zip of her dress when Becky reaches the doorway and for once, without any hesitation, Becky reaches out for her.  
  
“Hi,” Charlotte whispers as she feels Becky’s hand on her hip, there and gone again before she can even register it properly. She feels and then hears Becky tugging the rest of the zip down until it hits the base of her spine and she can feel the cool air of the room against her skin.  
  
Becky rests her chin on Charlotte’s shoulder and angles her head to press a soft kiss to the exposed skin where Charlotte’s neck meets her shoulder. The action stirs a whimper from Charlotte as Becky holds her in place, drawing her back slightly so that she is pressed flush against Becky’s chest.  
  
Then Becky moves again, her nose nuzzling in the space between Charlotte’s shoulder blades before a kiss is placed at the top of Charlotte’s back. Even in the darkness of the room, Becky can see the little nodules of Charlotte’s spine that poke out slightly against her skin and she trails her finger down two or three of them before settling her arms back around Charlotte’s waist.  
  
Charlotte turns so that they are facing each other and reaches a hand up and grazes the underside of Becky’s jaw with her thumb. “I wish I remembered you like this.” Her hands trail further, swiping across Becky’s lips and then up and over the bridge of her nose and then the curve of her cheek.  
  
Becky moves her head forward so that it’s resting against Charlotte’s collarbone. She can hear Charlotte breathing: quiet and uneven, but Becky senses no hesitation from her. Then she leans upwards and places a kiss on Charlotte’s collarbone.  
  
“Just remember me now.”  
  
Charlotte tilts Becky’s chin up so that she can press their lips together fully in a fervent kiss. It’s the type of kiss that knocks the breath out of your lungs and leaves you aching for more. She lets out a whimper of relief that is caught and nurtured by Becky’s mouth.  
  
Charlotte’s hands move to Becky’s jacket, slipping it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Then her attention moves to the red tie around Becky’s neck and her fingers work it loose, slow and deliberate and she can hear Becky audibly swallow. She tugs at Becky’s shirt so that it comes free from her trousers and then she starts on the buttons, from the bottom to the top and then she smiles in appreciation at the sight of Becky’s toned stomach and lithe shoulders.  
  
But then Charlotte feels the hesitation bubble inside of her and she’s not really sure why; she reaches for Becky’s belt buckle but Becky’s hand slips around her wrist to stop her.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Charlotte doesn’t look at Becky then; she bites down on her lip and then squeezes the belt buckle. Becky watches as Charlotte’s eyes flutter shut and there’s a rise of panic in her chest because Charlotte looks utterly crestfallen for some reason.  
  
“Charlotte, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you.”  
  
“It’s just – “ Charlotte swallows thickly and then glassy eyes are watching Becky. “I just didn’t know… don’t know if you still want me like this after everything.”  
  
Becky lifts one of Charlotte’s hands to her lips and presses soft kisses at the tips of her fingers. She continues her exploration at a slow pace, kissing Charlotte’s knuckles and then she moves to the inside of Charlotte’s arm, starting at the bend of her elbow and ending at her wrist.  
  
“I want you in every way, Charlotte.”  
  
Becky’s face is perfect. Every feature only serves the purpose of making another one better. Perfect nose, perfect cheekbones, perfect jaw and perfect lips that Charlotte knows know every inch of her. Inside and out. Just as some people have to learn to live without an arm or a leg, Charlotte has to learn to live without a large important part of her life that she can’t remember but if she can make new memories like this then maybe it’s not so bad after all.  
  
Becky guides Charlotte’s hands back to her belt and they unbuckle it together before Becky undoes the button and zip of her trousers, and shimmies out of them and her underwear, kicking her shoes off in the process. She’s all but naked.  
  
“Take this off too,” Charlotte demands gently, running her finger underneath the strap of Becky’s bra. Becky does as she’s told.  
  
Now she is naked and it seems a little unfair that she’s the only one.  
  
Any hesitation Charlotte has dissolves into nothing as Becky kisses her again, and she almost flattens her body against Charlotte’s own. Charlotte slides her hands around Becky’s waist, palms flat against her naked back and it’s intoxicating. Becky’s tongue grazes against her bottom lip and then she catches it between her teeth and Charlotte doesn’t know whether the groan that’s drawn from her throat comes from pleasure or from pain.  
  
It doesn’t really matter.

Charlotte wants more; she _needs_ more.  
  
She’s impatient as she grabs at her dress to drag it down but then Becky’s there, giving her a look, and Charlotte let’s her take over. Becky can feel the nervous energy hammering through Charlotte’s body, she sees it in the way her fingers shake slightly as she pulls at her dress and Becky can only love her more for it.  
  
She pulls at Charlotte’s dress freeing it from the skin around her shoulders so that it hangs off the top of her arms. The dress slips easily down Charlotte’s frame and Becky finds herself following it. She presses a kiss to Charlotte’s breastbone and then her stomach, and she feels Charlotte inhale sharply at that, then she trails kisses further down until she is at Charlotte’s underwear.  
  
“Can I take them off?”  
  
Butterflies swoon in Charlotte’s stomach because this whole situation is _so_ Becky. Always caring and considerate when it comes to Charlotte, never wanting to push too much too soon and Charlotte’s heart aches in the best possible way because of it.  
  
She feels wanted.  
  
“Yeah,” her voice is shakier than she expected but Becky only smiles up at her.  
  
Becky nips at the skin around her thighs and Charlotte can only let out a breathy hum because her legs feel like jelly and when Becky presses a kiss against her underwear she arches shamefully into it, hoping that it will alleviate the throbbing between her legs but it doesn’t and Becky moves on quickly, helping Charlotte out of her heels and then allowing her to step out of her underwear.  
  
Charlotte knows she should feel vulnerable. She’s naked and almost begging Becky to touch her and yet she doesn’t, she feels perfectly safe and secure. There’s no one or nothing here that can hurt her.  
  
“You,” Becky murmurs and her voice is gruff and low, “are beautiful.”  
  
Charlotte feels Becky’s gaze everywhere. It washes over her, heightening the desire and emotion that’s currently consuming every fiber of her very being. It feels like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the room and Charlotte’s eager.  
  
It almost hurts to look at Becky when she’s like this - naked and there’s so much affection in her eyes that she looks like she might burst. Charlotte welcomes the warmth of the compliment; it spreads all over, racing through her veins. And before she knows it Becky is kissing her again. Becky’s tongue slides between her lips and it catches Charlotte’s own, bringing her to life.  
  
And there’s so much skin. Charlotte’s hands are everywhere: over Becky’s hips, up and across the plane of her rib cage, over the swell of her breasts and around her neck before cupping both of her cheeks and drawing her in for another torrid kiss.  
  
Charlotte wants – she wants and she takes and she gives and it’s all so intense that she thinks that she might fall apart because of it. Her knees graze the bed and before she falls backwards, Becky is already there lowering her down gently like she’s some invaluable historic artifact. It’s like falling but without any fear because Charlotte knows – without any doubts – that Becky will be there to catch her at the bottom of the drop.  
  
Becky’s body is poised over Charlotte’s own and her eyes search for any unwillingness or reluctance but she finds none. Charlotte simply kisses her and there’s a smile on her lips as she does so. Becky’s hands are warm and welcoming on her bare skin, and Charlotte arches into them, holding on to Becky’s shoulders and her biceps.  
  
She’s on sensory overload and Becky has barely even touched her.  
  
Words die in her throat as Becky bends her head to press her lips to her stomach and Becky’s hair tickles her. When she looks down Becky is looking back up at her and it makes her squirm.  
  
“I meant what I said earlier,” Becky whispers against her skin, “you are beautiful.”  
  
Becky’s blunt nails scrape against her stomach and then fingers are drifting over her ribs as they rise and fall and it’s almost like they are working in tandem with Becky.  
  
It’s so lovely and intimate that Charlotte pushes her shoulders back on the bed and Becky gets the message, she moves so that she’s hovering over Charlotte again. Charlotte grabs at her and kisses her until they both need to breathe.  
  
Charlotte knows that this right now is exactly how her body is supposed to respond, she knows that. But it also reinforces the fact that while Becky clearly knows her in every way, Charlotte doesn’t really know Becky in the same manner anymore.  
  
It’s overwhelming.  
  
She has no idea what Becky likes.  
  
Becky’s lips are now on a spot behind her ear and Charlotte has to close her eyes at the sensation of it. She wonders if Becky can hear her heart clattering in her chest because before Becky moves anywhere else, she pulls back and looks down at Charlotte.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
There doesn’t seem like much she can say. If she lies she knows Becky will uncover the truth sooner or later anyway. And she doesn’t want to lie to Becky in the first place.  
  
“Charlotte, if you don’t want – “  
  
“No, I do. I _do_ want to and I do want _you_ , I just...”  
  
Becky’s hair is tousled and her eyes are bright and she is gorgeous.  
  
“It’s okay, y’know. Listen, we can just go at your pace, we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna, I hope you know that.”  
  
“I do.” Charlotte absolutely does. “It’s just… you know me. What I like, what I don’t like and I don’t know anything about you like this.”  
  
“You’ll learn. We both will again.”  
  
Charlotte feels the fire in her chest; it ignites and trails through her body. Becky says it like it’s a game between them but an important one and Charlotte certainly wants to take part in that game.  
  
Becky kisses her again.  
  
Becky kisses her until she can’t anymore because of the smile on her face.  
  
Becky kisses her even when they move so that they are under the duvet, still pressed together.  
  
Becky kisses her again until she rolls over onto her back and Charlotte follows her across the bed, unwilling to be parted.  
  
And for once, Becky drifts off to sleep first and Charlotte lies in the darkness, feeling Becky’s chest rise and fall underneath her head. She can feel Becky’s steady breath rustle gently through her hair and it soothes her, it makes her feel safely at home. She draws patterns on Becky’s stomach with her fingers that are little paintings of promises.  
  
“I love you,” Charlotte whispers, “I know I do. I know as much as I know anything else that I love you.”  
  
The words are out of her mouth before she can even think about it but that’s okay, she knows what she’s just said is true and that’s the most important thing.  
  
She knows she loves Becky.  
  
Becky, who makes her small world seem so much bigger and brighter. Becky, who is still here despite everything. Becky, who is patient and caring and loving. Becky, who gives her purpose even when she doesn’t see any at times. Becky, who loves her too, of that Charlotte is certain.  
  
With a slow movement she pulls the duvet up to her chin and settles in as close to Becky as she possibly can. She steals body heat from Becky even though their skin is already hot and sticky, and before long she feels herself falling away to the natural darkness that comes with sleep.  
  
Next to her Becky smiles into the darkness and curls her arm around Charlotte in an attempt to bring her impossibly closer. She knows she can wake Charlotte up and tell her she's heard everything but she doesn't. The confession is Charlotte's and Charlotte's alone and Becky knows Charlotte will tell her when she is ready.  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
Becky never falls asleep first.  
  
-  
  
A lonely strip of sunlight punctures the window of the bedroom when Charlotte finally opens her eyes. Although Becky’s feet are tangled around her legs, she’s on her side facing away from Charlotte. Becky’s hair is wild across the pillow and Charlotte reaches across to smooth it away from Becky’s face.  
  
The flesh on Becky’s back is unblemished except for two scars about half way down; two white rough lines pressed closely together and one little circular pocket of puckered skin. They are mysterious looking things, almost fluorescent against Becky’s pale skin. They look like symbols, like they are trying to tell Charlotte something, or maybe spelling something out to her.  
  
Becky’s skin is silent under her fingertips until they skim over the little scars. She runs her finger down the two lines and they are more seen than felt, rippling seamlessly below Becky’s skin. Then she moves onto the rounder one and something flits between her ribs and the skin suddenly feels like it’s vibrating under her touch, like it’s trying to talk to her and tell her something.  
  
She can hear the roar of the ocean in her ear and can see the beach infront of her, there’s sea water washing over her toes and ankles and -  
  
“This isn’t a bad way to wake up,” Becky murmurs as she feels the tickle of Charlotte’s fingers on her back. She rolls over so that she’s facing Charlotte and offers her a sleepy smile in greeting.  
  
Charlotte loses all train of thought when Becky beams at her. Her chest tightens and there’s a rush of warmth that settles over her, she reaches out and twirls a strand of orange hair around her finger and Becky never takes her eyes off her.  
  
“What are you smiling at?” Charlotte asks.  
  
Becky shakes her head but doesn’t say anything, like she is holding some secret back from Charlotte. The smile only grows wider as Charlotte pulls harder on the strand of hair around her finger.  
  
“There was a time when I thought I’d never get to do this with you again,” Becky admits. She reaches out under the duvet and can feel the bone jutting out slightly at Charlotte’s hip, can feel the tight muscles around Charlotte’s stomach as she drags her finger lower. “I want you to know that you are the most important person in my life.”  
  
Then Becky moves slowly so that she can roll her body atop Charlotte’s own, settling inbetween Charlotte’s legs and pinning her down with little fuss. Charlotte can only sigh when Becky captures her lips in a slow moving and tender kiss.  
  
Charlotte knows now that Becky is an enthusiastic kisser. She can feel it in the way Becky grabs at her waist and scratches down the bare skin there. She feels it in the way that Becky’s teeth pinch at her lip before soothing it with her tongue. She feels it in the way Becky changes the angle so that she can press Charlotte down firmer.  
  
She feels Becky’s leg slip between her own and then Becky’s lips are moving to her neck, sucking gently before letting the skin go with a little pop and Charlotte knows that she is addicted to this. There is no way that she couldn’t be.  
  
“Has it always been like this with us?” Charlotte wonders, taking shallow breaths to try and calm her heart down.  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Like… like _hot_?”  
  
Becky grins down at her and it is ridiculous how much it affect’s Charlotte. “What d’you think?”  
  
“I think… I think I want you to touch me.”  
  
Charlotte watches as Becky’s eyes widen at the admission, but then they relax and Charlotte is all but mesmerised with her.  
  
“I know, but last night – “  
  
“I know what I said last night but I just… I want you. I want you to have me.”  
  
“I already have you,” Becky whispers as she nudges against Charlotte’s jaw with her nose.  
  
“You do, but I want you to have me in this way too. I want you to touch me.”  
  
And then Charlotte is hooking her arm around Becky’s neck and pulling her down for a rough kiss, and this time it’s her biting down on Becky’s lip, a little harder and a little longer.  
  
“Where?” Becky asks, and there’s an audible crack in her voice.  
  
“Everywhere,” Charlotte confesses instantly, “I want you everywhere.”  
  
Becky’s hand finds the small of her hip, dragging a finger to the curve of Charlotte’s thigh and then back upwards. “Here?”  
  
Charlotte nods. “Yeah.”  
  
Then Becky’s fingers are moving upwards and counting over the ridges of her ribs. One. Two. Three. Four. “Here too?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“How about here then?” Becky asks as she slides her palm up and over the swell of Charlotte’s breast, thumb brushing against a hard nipple, and then Becky follows it with her tongue and Charlotte’s world feels like it is on fire.  
  
“You know I do. You’re teasing me.”  
  
“Are you sure this is okay?”  
  
“Becky,” Charlotte breathes, “I’m fine, I’m always fine when I’m with you. I’m not going to break because you’re touching me like this, especially when I want you to.”  
  
And maybe that’s a tiny white lie because Charlotte is certain that by the end of this she is definitely going to break but it’s going to be in the best possible way.  
  
“Okay,” Becky answers, hot and heavy against her skin. Then her tongue is tracing the curve of Charlotte’s breasts in a whirlwind of movement and Charlotte lets her. Her hands move from Becky’s hair to the base of her naked back, working them higher over the hot skin until she feels the trim athletic muscles of Becky’s shoulders.  
  
Charlotte almost loses the ability to formulate words when she feels Becky’s slender hips start to move; she’s distracted by the greatest of all distractions. Becky is on top of her, hips in between her thighs and it’s incredible.  
  
“Becky,” she whispers and she’s never needed anyone like she needs Becky right now. She moves slightly, allowing Becky to settle fully inbetween her legs. Both of them rolling their hips together.  
  
Charlotte is overwhelmed with affection and emotion and love, and she’s done waiting. She drags Becky’s hand down over the pliant skin of her stomach, inbetween their bodies and then between her legs, and it’s immediate and devastating all at the same time. Becky’s touch is strong and sure and Charlotte’s body stutters with excitement, and she quivers like she’s just been shocked.  
  
This is real. This is happening. They are rediscovering each other in this new way. In naked flesh and loving intensity. In wandering hands and carnal noises. They are falling over the edge of a cliff together and it feels like that is exactly what they are supposed to do.  
  
Becky dips inside, just the tip of her finger, and she feels Charlotte’s body welcoming her, straining to pull her in further and Becky obliges, slipping in deeper with every press of her finger. She uses her thumb to stroke against Charlotte’s clit and there’s only a whimper in response.  
  
“Is this okay?”  
  
“God, Becky, yes.”  
  
Becky watches as Charlotte’s head tilts back towards the pillow and her neck strains and she’s the most beautiful thing Becky has ever seen. She focuses on building a rhythm as Charlotte’s hand comes up to cup her neck and pull her down into a trembling kiss and there’s nails digging into her scalp and Becky adds another finger.  
  
She shifts the angle slightly and curls her fingers inside Charlotte and groans as Charlotte’s fingernails dig into the skin on her back; she’s definitely left marks on her. And despite the sting of it, Becky can only kiss her again, and it’s a desperate wet kiss this time, Charlotte’s hips are frantic as she meets Becky with every thrust. They are equal partners in their love making.  
  
It’s hot and humid and Becky can feel her skin almost sticking to Charlotte’s. It’s the best damn feeling in the world.  
  
She pulls away and allows Charlotte to take in the breaths that she needs to, but then Charlotte is bringing her back down so that their temples rest against each other and Becky understands what Charlotte wants. Charlotte wants Becky to watch her and Becky is more than happy to.  
  
She watches as Charlotte’s eyes roll back in her head. She watches as Charlotte’s hands come back to scrape at her neck and shoulder again. She watches as Charlotte tries to form words and fails. She watches as Charlotte tries to wrap her legs around Becky’s waist to bring them even closer.  
  
Becky watches and she takes it all in and she falls in love all over again.  
  
Charlotte can feel herself flourish under Becky’s touch. Becky is like her own version of water and sunlight: she thrives and grows like flowers in bloom because of her.  
  
Becky increases the pace of her thrusts and Charlotte can only pant into her mouth now, her breathing has become a ragged, labouring sound next to Becky’s ear and Becky wants to see her unravel.  
  
“Let go, baby,” Becky commands gently, “I’ve got you, just let go.”  
  
Charlotte acquiesces eagerly in her climax. Her hands grasp Becky’s back and she squeezes against her with trembling thighs. Becky can feel the rumble under her body as Charlotte pushes fully against her and let’s out everything she’s been holding in.  
  
This has to be love, Charlotte thinks even though her thoughts have all but turned to mush.  
  
It simply has to be because if it isn’t then Charlotte hasn’t a clue what else love could possibly be.  
  
Outside the ever emerging morning sun splatters against the window, unable to fully break through the blinds. The strip of light that was there earlier has now turned into a large square, thrown over the bed and them like an extra blanket.

*****

Charlotte had goals and lots of them, that’s what has always driven her, that’s what makes her into, well, her really. When she wanted to achieve something, she more often than not achieved it, and achieved it well.  
  
In high school she wanted to become the best volleyball player, so she practiced and she practiced and she worked hard to become an impressive player – and not just limited to her school. After high school she wanted to go to college so she studied hard; she got good grades and she went to the college of her choosing. Then after that she wanted to be her own boss, so after a lot of blood sweat and tears, and a little help from her dad, that’s exactly what she became.  
  
However, what she is feeling right now is an entirely different goal, a much calmer and peaceful goal. Of course, that is helped by the low orange candle light; the smell of lavender scented oils and the hot water that is currently sloshing around her whole body. This is the current equivalent of bliss for Charlotte.  
  
Soapy bubbles float around the bath against the hot water before bursting against her and Becky’s skin. Becky, who is laying in her arms, naked – again – and pressed against her. It’s a little insane how much has changed in the space of a day and for once recently, nothing has changed for the worse but rather for the better.  
  
_“… I think you’re swell and you really do me well, you’re my pride and joy et cetera…”_ floats out from the speaker that is sitting on the counter next to the sink and Becky’s voice mixes in with it. Becky can do a lot of things, Charlotte knows that, but singing is not her forte by any stretch of the imagination.  
  
“I don’t know what’s worse, that song or you singing.”  
  
“Y’know, that would be much more convincing if you weren’t tapping your foot against the tub, Charlotte. It’s a classic song.”  
  
“I am not. Classic my ass.”  
  
Becky leans back and Charlotte’s mouth stretches into a content smile, then she splays her hands over Becky’s hips and lets the pad of her thumb caress the skin there as Becky moves her head further back towards Charlotte’s collarbone, her mouth ghosting against the skin on Charlotte’s arm.  
  
“I sing better than you, so.”  
  
Charlotte flicks her fingers against Becky’s stomach in disagreement. “Hey!”  
  
“We can’t be good at everything,” Becky replies with a hearty laugh. “Your talents are just at other things,” she soothes further.  
  
Charlotte’s lips lift without hesitation, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile. “This is crazy.”  
  
“What is?” Becky asks as she cranes her head back to get a better view of Charlotte.  
  
“This. If you had told me that I’d be doing this this time yesterday I would have laughed at you. And yet here we are.” Charlotte moves her hands under the water to where Becky’s are and tangles their fingers again. “It’s just crazy.”  
  
Becky shifts fully in the tub, hips pivoting as she turns in Charlotte’s arms. Water pools over the edge with a loud splash and Charlotte, usually a bit of a neat freak, doesn’t even care. Facing Becky, she reaches across and wipes sodden orange hair away from her face.  
  
“You’re like a little Irish mermaid,” Charlotte murmurs as she traces her finger against Becky’s jaw, ignoring the scrunched up look on Becky’s face at her comment. She definitely has a thing for Becky’s jaw but she figures most people would. “You are.”  
  
Lips paint Becky’s jaw, soft caressing kisses that are aimed to sooth rather than excite, but Becky’s heart, which was beating just fine a minute ago, now bangs fiercely against her ribs. Flushed, she tilts her head against Charlotte’s and she can’t look away.  
  
Becky kisses Charlotte then; it’s a chase, beautiful kiss that feels like it’s being given because it is the end of the world.  
  
“Ready to get out?” Charlotte asks, her temple still pressed against Becky’s as she laughs gently. “You’re all crinkly.”  
  
“So are you. Showing your age, Charlotte.”  
  
“Take that back right now.”  
  
“Or?”  
  
“Take it back, Becky.”  
  
“Nope.” Becky smirks and Charlotte can’t help but be charmed by it.  
  
Charlotte huffs before a low, throaty laugh escapes from her mouth. “Fine, I can’t really throw you out so you’ll need to stay.” Stepping out of the bath she grabs a large fluffy towel, wrapping it around her midsection before she winks at Becky. “By the way,” Charlotte lifts her hand to her own neck and points to a spot just below her jaw, “you may want to check that out in the mirror, Becky.”  
  
“Check what out?” Becky asks as she drags her own fingers to her throat.  
  
Charlotte curls her toes on the cold, wet floor as she makes her way across the bathroom to the mirror. Charlotte stares into the mirror and Charlotte Flair stares right back at her. Her hair is messy and still wet; her eyes are bright and clear; her lips are pink and a little swollen; but she looks completely happy and that's because she is. She watches in the mirror as Becky comes to stand by her side and she laughs when Becky’s eyes widen.  
  
“Charlotte! I look like I’ve been mauled or somethin’!”  
  
“Oh well. Serves you right for saying I was showing my age.”  
  
The scar catches her eye again when Becky goes to wrap her towel around her and Charlotte feels that familiar tingling again. She stops Becky from moving any further and stands behind her, running her finger over the puckered skin again.  
  
“Becky, where did you get this?”  
  
Becky looks over her shoulder as if she’s forgotten it’s even there. “Oh that, that was last summer, I slipped on the rocks – “  
  
“At the beach?” Charlotte offers. There’s a finger of fear that tugs at her words in case she is wide of the mark and totally off course with her thoughts but she’s _sure_ this time, she is.  
  
“Yeah, you went crazy at me cause I wouldn’t go to the doctors, wait how did you know that?”  
  
“I think… I think I remember some of it or at least little bits of it.”  
  
Becky turns on the spot and tries not to erupt into a full maniacal smile. “You serious?”  
  
“This morning when I seen it, I felt like I was back on a beach. I could hear the sea and see the water at my ankles in my head.”  
  
The scales tip from high to low and Becky feels herself closing the distance between them, throwing herself into Charlotte arms and giggling – actually giggling like an idiot – when Charlotte spins her around.  
  
“You remembered somethin’, Charlotte. You remembered!”  
  
Becky leans in at the same time Charlotte does, meeting her in the most chaotic and emotional kiss they’ve shared so far. She feels the atmosphere around them almost dance and fill with light. Then, she feels the persistent ache that’s been her companion over the last few months retreat back into the shadows, beaten down by the happiness that she currently feels.  
  
“I’m so proud of you, y’know that?” Becky murmurs.  
  
Becky kisses her again after that and Charlotte wants to combust because of it.  
  
-  
  
Becky wakes, wrapped up in Charlotte under the duvet, and still naked. A sliver of sky is noticeable between the blinds; it looks like the fine, dark blue of watery ink, somewhere between the middle of the night and very early morning, and everything is quiet in the apartment apart from Charlotte’s breathing.  
  
Becky glances down the shape curled into her. Charlotte’s left leg is thrown across the whole of her bottom half, her left arm follows suit over Becky’s stomach and Charlotte’s left hand is entangled with her right hand.  
  
It’s all very surreal and Becky feels like pinching herself because she wonders if she’s in some sort of wonderful dream that she’ll have to wake up from and that would be the cruelest thing in the world, out of everything she thinks that would be the most devastating. She waits for a few seconds before deciding that Charlotte is in fact real and nestled into her before she kisses her shoulder. She quietly pulls the duvet back and grabs a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.  
  
She pads down the hall and switches on the tv before she turns the volume right down. She can hear the rain pattering against the window outside like a gentle lullaby from the heavens.  
  
“What are you doing, Becky?” Charlotte asks sleepily, she’s standing at the corner of the hallway rubbing the sleep from her eyes and Becky loses herself in Charlotte’s body for a moment. The way her shirt curves over her breasts and hips and the way the shorts fall down Charlotte’s thigh, exposing enough skin that Becky is interested. She’s like a damn horny teenager. “Are you… leaving?”  
  
“Nah, no, of course I’m not leaving, Charlotte. Come here.”  
  
Charlotte takes the remote from the edge of the sofa and switches the channel. There are reruns of some trash reality tv show on and she sinks down into the sofa next to Becky, the leather soft against the back of her bare legs.  
  
“Are you regretting what we’ve done?”  
  
She watches as Becky’s hand reaches out for her own, clasping their fingers so that their palms are pressed together. “No, never. I’m sittin’ here wonderin’ if this is all real cause I need this to be real, Charlotte. After everything, I need this…”  
  
“It is real. I am.” She throws her legs up onto the sofa and lays her head on Becky’s chest, pulling Becky’s arm around her shoulders. “I need this to be real too.”  
  
Charlotte lets out a heavy, content sigh as Becky looks down at her. She knows that look on Becky’s face, it’s one of happiness and it even radiates to Becky’s eyes and Charlotte can’t help but smile.  
  
“Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you hadn’t met me? Like what you would be doing?” Charlotte asks a short while later. She’s re-arranged herself so that her head rests on Becky’s lap and she’s looking upwards.  
  
Becky blinks away from the trash that’s playing on tv before she glances down at Charlotte who is staring up at the ceiling, rather than at her. She combs her fingers through blonde hair and then shrugs. “Not really. I wanted to be a pilot at some stage when I was younger, that would have been cool. New places and new faces, someone at every port and all that.”  
  
Charlotte laughs at the last bit, reaching over to pinch Becky’s stomach as Becky looks down at her with a silly grin on her face. This is Becky at her basic human form. No make up, in comfortable clothes and smelling of something that is uniquely Becky.  
  
“But,” Becky adds, as she gazes down at Charlotte, “if I’d done that, I probably wouldn’t have met you. I’d probably be someone different and I quite like myself when I’m with you.”  
  
“I wanted to be a vet when I was younger,” Charlotte confesses, even though she’s certain that Becky already knows that but Becky doesn’t interrupt her, she just keeps running her hand through Charlotte’s hair like she's encouraging her to continue. “But I wouldn’t have been able to cope with putting pets to sleep.”  
  
“My very own Dr Dolittle, eh?”  
  
Charlotte shakes her head and turns her face into the fabric that covers Becky’s stomach and she’s overcome with a case of the giggles for some reason. A laugh breaks out from between her lips and Charlotte laughs like it is the first time she has ever laughed at anything in her life.  
  
When she hears Becky laughing with her it makes her feel so unbelievably alive that she can actually feel her eyes filling with tears because of it.

*****

“You’re staring,” Charlotte says lazily, there’s still sleep clogging her brain.  
  
“Sorry,” Becky apologies, running her index finger across the dip of Charlotte’s collarbone. “I wanted to wake you up straight away but I didn’t. You looked really peaceful."  
  
“How long has it been?"  
  
"Like five minutes?” Becky grins. “I got bored.”  
  
Charlotte groans and nudges closer to Becky, her nose sliding up the column of Becky’s neck. Her arm wraps around Becky’s waist, she squeezes and she feels Becky press a kiss to her hair in return. Then she rolls back towards the window in the hope of getting some more sleep but she feels Becky follow her.  
  
Becky is pressed against her back with her head on her shoulder. Becky loves these moments and always has done. There’s nothing between them; no barriers. It’s just them and them alone. She presses a wet kiss onto Charlotte’s shoulder and feels Charlotte laugh in response.  
  
“You’re insatiable, Becky.”  
  
Charlotte turns in Becky’s arms so that they are facing each other and sharing the same pillow. Becky’s eyes almost look black in the light and Charlotte wonders if that old writing cliché about getting lost in someone’s eyes is actually accurate. Becky looks at her with that look again, the one that makes Charlotte feel wanted and loved and adored and it still knocks the wind out of her.  
  
She’d be content to do this every morning. Charlotte wants to do this every morning as long as Becky will have her.  
  
“Do you know how you look at me?” Charlotte asks quietly. “You look at me like nothing else matters.”  
  
“It doesn’t.”  
  
“You look at me like you want me all the time.”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“You look at me and I feel loved.”  
  
“You are,” Becky whispers as she leans down and brushes her lips against Charlotte’s. “I love you. I meant what I said, it doesn’t matter what life it is. This one, the last one or the next one. I love you.”  
  
Charlotte’s not exactly surprised by the words, she already knows Becky loves her. But the words still make it feel like her heart is plummeting through her chest.  
  
“I love you too,” Charlotte breathes against her lips. “I know it might not make a lot of sense to you – “  
  
“Nothin’ about this whole situation has made a lot of sense, Charlotte, but we’re here and us being in love is one of the few things that do make sense.”

*****

Charlotte dreams.  
  
It’s one of those awful vivid dreams that you know is just a dream but it still feels very real.  
  
She’s lying to Becky in her dream and she’s aware that she’s lying. She feels like her nose is going to get bigger and grow, it’s like Pinocchio all over again.  
  
Then she’s pacing. She paces back and forth across the living room floor and the window that’s usually so pretty to look out of looks like it is going to cave in on her. She’s anxious.  
  
Then she’s in the bedroom looking around wildly. Then there’s a key being pushed into the lock and she panics. She hasn’t a clue what she’s supposed to do.

She’s going to get caught. She’s going to get caught. She’s going to get caught.  
  
A shoe box at the back of her wardrobe? Yep. That’ll do. Becky won’t look for anything in there.  
  
She can’t reach a shoe box. She’s almost six foot and she can’t reach a fucking shoe box in her wardrobe.  
  
She can hear footsteps coming down the hall now. And Becky is calling out her name.  
  
She can’t reach a shoe box. Why can’t she reach a damn shoe box?  
  
Then she’s looking around and finds a pocket in one of her jackets. That will have to do.  
  
Dream Becky calls her name again and Charlotte wakes up to a pounding in her chest and knows her dream hasn’t been very pleasant at all.  
  
-  
  
Charlotte finds herself making pancakes with all the trimmings when she finally gets out of bed.  
  
She goes about making coffee and pancakes as Becky gets dressed. She’s attempting to hum along to some song that’s playing through the speaker in the kitchen when she catches sight of orange hair from the corner of her eye. Then hands are on her waist and she’s spun around so she’s face to face with Becky.  
  
“I still have a mark here!” Becky says as she points to her neck.  
  
Charlotte shrugs. “I’ve said sorry, I made pancakes if that makes you feel any better?”  
  
Becky narrows her eyes and lowers her brows playfully. “Little bit. I need coffee and lots of it this morning.”  
  
Charlotte says: “I don’t know how you can drink so much of that stuff.”  
  
“Well it’s easy, you just tip the cup and the coffee comes right out of it.”  
  
“Is that a joke there? Your heart must be racing all the time.”  
  
Becky smiles. “Nah, that only happens when I see you.”  
  
“Smooth. Now sit.”  
  
Becky does as she’s told and she’s almost drooling when Charlotte starts to stack her pancakes on the plate. The counter is complete with syrups and fruit and Becky’s pretty sure this is what breakfast in heaven must be like.  
  
Becky doesn’t talk as she eats, she’s too busy with her food to talk. She’s even ends up putting two pancakes in a plastic tupperware box so that she can take them to work with her for later. She’s jealous though as she watches Charlotte get comfortable on the couch, she’s debating about diving over the back of it to join her but the adult side of her brain wins and overrules her.  
  
“Okay, I gotta go. Do you need anything before I leave?” Becky asks as she lifts her keys from the counter.  
  
“No, I’m okay babe.”  
  
“Where the hell did that come from?” Becky asks, “you haven’t called me that since… well it’s been months.”  
  
Charlotte looks as surprised as Becky does. “I honestly have no idea.”  
  
“I like it,” Becky decides. Then she makes light work of the distance between them, walking quickly over towards the couch and kissing Charlotte goodbye before pulling back. “You can call me it again.”  
  
“Babe.”  
  
“No, I meant. Y’know what, never mind. I really gotta go. I love you.”  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
-  
  
Charlotte stands under the shower, eyes closed, letting the water run over her skin. She turns the hot water up and stays like that for another few minutes, until her skin pinks and the steam is thick around her. After she washes her hair she leans forward and turns off the water.  
  
She wraps a towel around her when she steps out of the shower, smiling when she looks into the mirror and, in the condensation, sees a small message written for her by Becky.  
  
After getting dressed, she ties her damp hair up before her attention is drawn to the walk in wardrobe and parts of her dream start to come back to her, dripping into her conscience and making little splashes that are noticeable.  
  
She can feel that familiar feeling in her stomach and she knows she should pay attention to it. She opens the door to the wardrobe and looks towards the shoe boxes that are all stacked neatly on the top shelf. She can reach them though – she can actually reach them easily so she has no idea why she couldn’t in her dream. She pulls one down and opens it. She finds what she should in a shoe box – shoes.  
  
She works her way further into the wardrobe and pulls another few boxes down but she finds the same thing in all of them. There’s nothing in them that shouldn’t be. Her dream has been playing tricks on her, she had been hoping that it meant something after the whole 'Becky's scar at the beach' revelation.  
  
She turns to leave when her hand brushes up against a leather jacket that’s hanging underneath the shoe boxes. The jacket is tucked away at the back of the rail and Charlotte can’t even remember this jacket but it doesn’t look new. There’s scuff marks on the sleeves and there’s a tiny tear in the collar of it too.  
  
She pulls it out by the hanger and she has absolutely no recollection of it whatsoever. It doesn’t even look like something she would buy. She's not convinced it's actually hers. She’s about to put it back when she sees the little bulge in the breast pocket. She opens the jacket up and folds it over so that she can see the inside of it.  
  
In the pocket of the jacket Charlotte finds a box.

And when she opens the box she finds a ring.


	5. but you know love there's one more thing to consider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of trouble with this chapter and I'm still not 100% happy with it but it got to the stage where I just wanted it finished so I really hope it's still okay for you guys. 
> 
> Thank you for all the love on this story, it really has blown me away.

Becky rolls her head to the left and presses the home button on her phone to illuminate the time. It is now three in the morning. There is still plenty of time for her to get a few more hours sleep before her bare feet hit the floor to start a brand new day.  
  
She has no idea what had jolted her out of a sound sleep almost an hour ago – maybe a bad dream that had fragmented before she could process it into her memory, or a strange sound that her ears had registered, or maybe it was the boogeyman or maybe it was just the old fashioned ‘I’m having a bad sleep tonight’ type of thing.  
  
But, whatever the reason, it has unnerved her because given her luck over the past eight months, if there is anything bad out there like the boogeyman then it is surely coming for them next without a shadow of a doubt.  
  
Searching for some long awaited sleep, Becky closes her eyes, but she still has a feeling that her mind won’t be shutting down anytime soon. Still she thinks closing her eyes is pacifying enough for now.  
  
However, Mother Nature clearly has other ideas for her. Against her premonition, she is sound asleep when the early birds begin to sing their cheery songs as the sun rising traces the horizon with showy hues of yellow and purple. The cardinals are always the first to wake and the last to bed, and also the most tuneful in the morning, usually Becky quite likes them. The blue jays are much louder, they just scream, especially the younger ones. They are all grating on Becky’s nerves this morning.

“Those bloody birds.”  
  
Charlotte stirs next to her and Becky moves so that she is lying flat on her back and looking upwards at the ceiling. Something is bothering Charlotte, Becky can tell. It’s actually a little insulting, Becky thinks, that Charlotte believes that she can fob Becky off with feeble lies like ‘ _I’m fine’_ and _‘everything is okay’_. Trying to talk to Charlotte right now is like attempting to talk to an amnesiac with lockjaw – literally.  
  
But Becky hasn’t pushed Charlotte and she won’t because that’s not how their relationship works. Charlotte will reach out eventually, she always has done when things are getting too much or are threatening to overwhelm her, then Charlotte will reach out and Becky will be there. She just needs to be… patient so to speak.  
  
Charlotte moves again, rolling over and her face is now at Becky’s shoulder, her nose and lips almost grazing Becky’s skin. Becky adjusts so that she can get her arm around Charlotte’s shoulder.  
  
“Are you awake?”  
  
“Yeah,” Charlotte murmurs quietly, and Becky feels the vibration of Charlotte’s voice against her arm.  
  
“Alright. Is everything okay?” Becky says, so softly that Charlotte barely even hears it.  
  
Charlotte is not okay, not at all; but Becky’s worry gives her the nerve to tell a little white lie until she can figure some things out, things that she really needs to think about by herself.  
  
Charlotte has the silly notion that if things go unsaid then they don’t really exist because words have power, words have weight and shape and force and saying them out loud can sometimes bring things tumbling down so if she doesn’t say anything then nothing can fall apart and they can stay in their happy bubble together.  
  
It really is a stupid notion.  
  
But emotion is the antithesis of logic, it always has been and always will be. If someone gets the promise of extending their happiness then they’ll buy into that over tough reality any day of the week.  
  
Charlotte is unfortunately no different.

*****

The park is beautiful in late summer. Charlotte loves it at any time of the year but there’s just something about it right now: the low grass and foliage at either side of the path flame green; the tall trees glow in several shades of green, orange and red giving the illusion of safety; and the water shimmers like silky fabric. The marble structure that stands on the island in the middle of the water reflects the light so that it almost looks like it’s sparkling. The breeze blows over the water causing it to ripple. Leaves blow off the trees and settle on top of it, floating for a few minutes and then silently slipping underneath like they were never there at all.  
  
Charlotte’s walking through the park’s path, Sasha at her side, with an arm looped through her own. “What am I going to do?”  
  
“Talking to Becky is probably a good start. You’ve been going stir crazy for two weeks now, she’s gonna notice something is up.”  
  
“She has,” Charlotte answers as she surveys the park, its mid morning crowd has begun to build slowly. Sasha shoots her a knowing glance from her right hand side and Charlotte cringes. “Oh God, I need a seat.”  
  
Charlotte wipes at the bench with her hand, dislodging a few specks of dirt before sitting. She sighs as she sits and leans her head upwards towards the sky as if that will give her some sort of guidance. Sasha takes a seat next to her, crossing her legs and clasping her hands across her knee.  
  
It’s not that Charlotte hasn’t tried to talk to Becky because she has – several times. But there’s not exactly an easy way to bring up the fact that you were going to propose to someone before you had an accident and lost every memory you made with that person over the last few years of your life.  
  
And she just knows, Charlotte knows as much as she knows that the sky above her right now is blue, that Becky won’t handle this well. There’s just a dark feeling in her gut that’s telling her that no conversation like this could possibly go well.  
  
It’s actually got disaster written all over it like a big flashing neon sign.  
  
And it’s not because Becky is not understanding or considerate – Becky is. Becky is probably the most understanding and considerate person Charlotte knows – has ever known – but here she is about to tilt their world on its axis again and when is it going to stop?  
  
Is it ever?  
  
It would be easy for her to try and forget about it all but she just can’t. The ring still sits in that box and in that jacket and Charlotte feels the burning heat of it every time she walks into their bedroom. And she’s double checked everything she can think of to make sure _she_ did in fact buy that ring and it was her. She absolutely bought it.  
  
She was going to ask Becky to _marry_ her. It’s a big deal, right? It’s actually a pretty huge deal.  
  
And she knows Becky has noticed something is up with her. She sees it in the way Becky looks at her when Becky thinks she isn’t looking back, and she hears it in Becky’s voice when Becky casually asks her if everything is okay, and she feels it in Becky’s kiss in the morning like Becky is asking her to just indulge in whatever is bothering her so that Becky can at least attempt to fix it.  
  
So, yeah. Becky is more than understanding and considerate and that just makes Charlotte feel a whole lot worse right now.  
  
“Are you sure I never told you I was going to buy that ring?”  
  
“Charlotte,” Sasha starts, “full offence, but I would remember if my best friend had told me that she was going to ask my other best friend to marry her. Talk to Becky, you two have always been pretty good at it.”  
  
Laughter erupts from nearby and Charlotte’s attention is drawn to a mother and daughter playing with their dog next to the swings. She watches as the girl kicks the ball for the dog who bounds after it and then dutifully returns, dropping the ball at the little girl’s feet so that she can throw it again. It grabs at something in Charlotte’s chest, tugs at it in a way that Charlotte feels it all the way into her bones.  
  
She leans forward and puts her palms onto her thighs, and while the morning sun is beginning to shine brighter, there’s a slight nip in the air that lets everyone know that autumn is just right around the corner and coming for them.  
  
“You’ll still have all that,” Sasha says as she nods towards the mother and daughter and dog. “Becky will probably freak out a little and then she’ll calm down, she just – “  
  
“Does things and thinks about them later? I know.”

Charlotte feels Sasha bump into her shoulder. “Exactly. You know how Becky will react. If you weren’t going to talk about it with her you’d have never told me you found that ring, you just needed me to reassure you that you’re doing the right thing. You’ve never lied to Becky intentionally, don’t start now.”  
  
“Why did this have to happen to me?”  
  
It is a question that Charlotte has asked herself over and over and there’s never a right answer in her head. How could there possibly be? What Sasha says takes her by surprise though. It actually leaves Charlotte a little dumfounded.  
  
“Well, why not? It’s going to happen to people, you’re not an exception to the rule, Charlotte. Shitty things happen to everyone. Okay, yours was pretty serious but it’s life.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
Sasha lets out a giant sigh like she is trying to figure out the right thing to say now. “You’re tough as nails but you need a little tough love now and again. You’re moving on with your life and you always have that chance that things might come back to you but even if they don’t, you’re better off just embracing things now. Living for the moment and all that shit.”  
  
“Spoken like a true philosopher of life, Sasha. Becky told me that you introduced us to each other, I’ve never asked you why, well not that I can remember anyway.”  
  
“Because,” Sasha says and she leans her hand across to Charlotte’s knee, giving it a squeeze, “you wanted to be happy and I knew Becky could do that for you.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“What for?” Sasha asks.  
  
“For bringing Becky into my life.”  
  
-  
  
“Hello?” Becky calls, throwing open the door to the apartment. The warm air inside brings a welcome warmth to her bones. “I know you said you couldn’t do lunch but I wanted… what’s wrong?”  
  
Charlotte’s eyes are wide and her lip is bitten between perfect white teeth. She sits crossed legged, with her legs up on the couch, her arms wrapped around the pillow that she has pulled towards her body and she has worried a thread loose at the edge of the pillow, and it is currently a pool of material in her hand. The tv show in the background is exactly that: background noise.

“Charlotte, what’s goin’ on?”  
  
Becky eases down onto the sofa and takes a careful look at Charlotte, and she feels that horrible trickle of apprehension swell and then roll into her stomach. Maybe Charlotte is finally going to tell her what the hell has been bothering her over the past few weeks but given the feeling in her stomach Becky is unsure if she wants to know anymore.  
  
“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you about this but I don’t want to lie to you and I don’t want to have any secrets with you and I – “  
  
“You’re rambling,” Becky cuts her off.  
  
“I found this in a jacket in the wardrobe.”  
  
Becky watches as Charlotte reveals a small black box from underneath the pillow that she’s holding close to her. Becky thinks she has an idea of what is coming next, she _does_ know what’s coming next but it still doesn’t prepare her for when Charlotte opens the box. Becky mentally stumbles when she sees the ring glinting at her, shards of colour bounce off the diamond when the light hits it. It’s beautiful.  
  
“I didn’t buy that ring.”  
  
“No, I know you didn’t,” Charlotte replies quietly, “but I did before the accident.”  
  
Becky feels like she’s trapped in some sort of loop: an echo, a movie that is playing over and over again on repeat. Every time she thinks things are going well the world tips and she ends up on her ass again.  
  
“Is this for real?”  
  
Becky had thought about it – plenty of times for that matter – but had never gotten around to getting a ring. Now that she thinks about it she has no idea why she hadn’t gotten around to it because maybe she should have. It’s the kind of thing you should get around to when you love someone in that all consuming way and that much.  
  
What had been so important that she couldn’t find the time to get Charlotte a ring? Ironically, on Becky’s part, she genuinely can’t remember. And honestly, fuck life and all the mundane shit that goes with it that gets in the way of those important kinda things.  
  
Charlotte had bought Becky a ring.  
  
Charlotte was going to ask Becky to marry her.  
  
Becky hadn’t gotten around to it and because of what?  
  
It’s… a new sore point for her.  
  
It feels like there’s an elephant sitting on her chest and squashing her organs. Becky thinks if this conversation was a music record then this is the point where the needle would begin to scratch and squeal.  
  
“I remember that I asked you if I was a Lynch when I woke up from my accident,” Charlotte says, “I couldn’t figure out why I’d ask you that because my dad would have told me if I was married, that’s a big deal, right? But… I think it’s because I had bought you that ring, the idea was still there somewhere in my head.”  
  
The implications of Charlotte’s words stay with Becky, like ripples in a pond, then there’s tears blurring her eyes.  
  
“Why are you even showing me this now?” Becky asks, frustration edging into her voice. She rubs at her temple and searches for more words to say but comes up empty. A few painful minutes tick by before she can speak again. “Is this what has been goin’ on with you?”  
  
The space between them feels impenetrable. Charlotte eases a quiet breath into her lungs and expels it slowly, almost silently, her eyes on Becky, trying to figure out if Becky is really looking at her or looking at a spot over Charlotte’s shoulder.  
  
“I didn’t know what to do, Becky. I’ve been trying to figure it out and Sasha –“

Becky feels an uneasy sensation crawl across her skin like insects fleeing from their hiding places and then she has a constricting feeling in her stomach, a feeling that she thinks she knows where this conversation is going.  
  
“So wait, Sasha got to know about this before I did? So that means Bayley knew before me too? Anyone else or am I last in on it all?”  
  
“It wasn’t like that!”  
  
Becky likes to think that sometimes life gives you a break. Like it decides that you’ve had enough crap so it’s time to give you something nicer back and see what you can make of it.  
  
When the fuck is her break going to happen?  
  
Becky knows she’s probably overreacting but she can’t think about Charlotte buying that ring for her. Becky can’t think about Charlotte being a nervous wreck and wanting to propose to her. Becky just can’t think about what things could have been like for them again. Becky just can’t do it. She’s tired and she’s weary.  
  
And Becky knows that you can jump with both feet forward into the present and just live in the moment type of thing, that’s exactly what they have been doing but there is a tiny part of her that still wonders if she should keep one foot in the past just incase…  
  
“Whatever. I need to get outta here.”  
  
Becky backs away then, getting to her feet and stumbling a little – physically and mentally. She makes it to the door in a few easy strides and she feels like running away so that’s exactly what she does.  
  
-  
  
Becky sits at the end of the bar, watching the local sports news on an ancient relic of a tv that sits perched on top of an equally ancient stand. Everyone in the bar complains about it and grumbles about upgrading to a newer model, like something that has actually been made in the last decade.  
  
There is a healthy dose of Irish superstition involved too but there will never be an outspoken confession of this irrational thought. But Sheamus thinks - and Becky agrees for what it’s worth - that messing with a tv as old as that is only asking for a case of bad juju.  
  
Sheamus cracks a smile at her. “What’s your poison today then?”  
  
Becky sighs dramatically, and lets the truth tumble out of her mouth. “Is life an answer?”  
  
“Ah, yeah. That’ll kill ya for sure,” Sheamus comments.  
  
“Just gimme a drink or ten or however many it takes for me to forget today exists.”  
  
“Spoken with the sensitivity of a fatalist. Ten more of my drinks would be enough to kill someone of your size, Becky.”  
  
“Life’s fatal. We’re all going in the ground eventually, it’s just a matter of when and where.” Becky leans forward, sets her elbows squarely on the bar, and props her chin on her hand. “Okay, that was maybe too dramatic.”  
  
“Just a bit. What’s botherin’ ya?”  
  
There were a lot of branches that the tree of this conversation could grow, but right now Becky isn’t eager to pursue any of them. “Just get me a drink.”  
  
Becky lasts two drinks before the want for alcohol wears off and she leaves.  
  
She knows she’ll have to go home soon. She knows that, she really does, but there’s something oddly liberating about just abandoning her responsibilities, even if it’ll never last and it’s bordering on childish.  
  
The way Becky sees it though is that it’s alright to not be alright. When you’ve gone through things and you don’t allow yourself to not be alright, then you just make it worse. But she knows that problems will tear you apart if you pretend to ignore them. Problems demand attention because they need it.  
  
And that’s why Becky knows that she’ll have to go home.  
  
-  
  
Becky ends up at the park just as the sky is starting to lose some of its colour. The playground specifically. She sits herself down onto one of the swings and the metal creaks under her weight. She leans back and lets her feet take the momentum so that she ends up swinging gently instead of soaring right into the air. She startles at the sudden noise of footfalls somewhere nearby, trying to crane her head around to see who is approaching.  
  
“Do you want company?”  
  
Becky sighs. “How did you find me?”  
  
Charlotte slips into the swing beside her, her hands coming up to the chain handles and she pushes away from the ground so that she’s matching Becky. “Sheamus said you just left when I went to that dive so I knew you couldn’t be far. Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You’re lying to me aren’t you?” Charlotte asks.  
  
“Oh yeah.”  
  
“Well, thanks for being honest about your dishonesty.”  
  
“How many times is the carpet gonna get pulled from under our feet, Charlotte?”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“I don’t want you to be sorry, Charlotte, because you don’t need to be. If anyone should be sorry it’s me for how I reacted earlier. It’s just all… ahh.”  
  
“You were just frustrated and when you’re frustrated you do stupid things like lash out. I’m sorry too for what it’s worth, I just… freaked out when I found that ring.”  
  
Becky glances out the corner of her eye and looks at Charlotte as she speaks.  
  
Becky sometimes hates it when Charlotte is right.  
  
“Well stop.” Becky grabs onto the chained links tighter and then sighs again, “but I don’t want you to ask me that question now because you’ve found that ring, Charlotte. It’ll happen when it happens whenever that might be.”  
  
Charlotte shouldn’t ask this question, she definitely shouldn’t because the answer either way will probably floor her.  
  
She’s going to ask the question, of course she is. “What would you have said?”  
  
“I’d have said yeah, Charlotte. You know that already.”  
  
Charlotte watches Becky fight back a smile and lose. What comes through isn’t happy or smug it’s just honest. And Charlotte can’t help it. She smiles a little too and then reaches across to grab at Becky’s hand, looking down at their interlocked fingers with a glassy expression as they still swing back and forth.  
  
“It’s silly when I think about it now.”  
  
Becky peers across from her seat on the swing, her feet scuffing against the ground as she comes to a halt. “How’d you mean?”  
  
Charlotte takes a moment to compose herself before she talks. This isn’t some sort of fairy tale story and it’s nothing like the movies. This is real life and it hurts more than any fairy tale. It’s agonizing at some points and it’s agonizingly beautiful during others.  
  
“Life is just silly. There are these silly rules that you have to get engaged for 2.5 years and then get married and all that kind of thing but you never know what’s going to happen. If you want to marry someone then you should just ask them and do it because – “  
  
Becky swallows when she hears the emotion tighten Charlotte’s voice. “Just in case you lose your memory or somethin’?”  
  
“Yeah, pretty much,” Charlotte replies.  
  
“I’m sorry for earlier, Charlotte, I really am. It’s just… I dunno.”

Charlotte leans across from where she’s sitting on her swing to kiss Becky then. A slow, sensual kiss that reminds Becky that not everything in the world is bad and evil. There are good things around and in her life and they good things usually come in the form of Charlotte.  
  
“You aren’t perfect but neither am I and we’re probably never going to have a perfect life because no one does,” Charlotte says, “but we’re together and we’ll be okay. We’ve figured everything out so far, so.”  
  
And that’s the thing, life isn't one big happily ever after, it’s hard work. You'll be let down. You'll be disappointed and you’ll have your horrible days and sometimes you’ll wonder what the hell you’re doing. Sometimes you’ll lose more than you win. You’ll want to dislike the person you love as much as you love them. But you have to roll up your sleeves and work hard at it all but especially your relationship because that’s what love is all about.  
  
And Becky knows that people are messy, there’s no doubt about it.  
  
Charlotte and her are messy together but maybe that’s okay.  
  
We are defined not only by what we actually do but what we would do, under different circumstances. Shaped by our regrets as much as our actions and then there’s the choices we have to stand by and the choices we wish we could change. But there is no going back – time only ticks forward – and the big news is people can change and couples can grow.  
  
Sometimes for the worse.  
  
But usually for the better.  
  
It’s not easy. The world is a difficult place to navigate. Life is usually complicated.  
  
And it often hurts.  
  
But you just have to make sure that it’s worth the pain.  
  
For Becky, moments like this are worth the pain.

*****

Autumn arrives sure and swift.  
  
The rain outside fills the sky like a giant sigh. It drips against the apartment like a distant drum beat. Becky can tell by the pit pattering on the bedroom window that the rain is relentless; it’s the kind of rain that gets in your eyes and streams down your face so that everyone looks like they have been crying. She _hates_ the rain, it’s like the weather is fighting back, spitting in your face and kicking you when you’re down.  
  
She’s broken out of her thoughts when heels dig further into the lower base of her back and arms are being draped around her neck. Charlotte is underneath her and her cheeks are flushed and her hair is wild and she’s gorgeous. Becky doesn’t know where she ends and where Charlotte begins.  
  
“Can I ask you something?”  
  
Becky simply nods before leaning down to kiss at the mark she’s left on Charlotte’s right shoulder.  
  
“Are you happy, Becky?”  
  
“Well, I’m naked and on top of you and we just did _that_ so I’d say I’m pretty happy, yeah,” Becky answers with a smile and another kiss.  
  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
  
“I know, so why don’t you just tell me what you’re gettin’ at.”  
  
Charlotte curls her hand around Becky’s neck, trying to coax the words that need to come out. “I know you love me,” Charlotte whispers and her heart is racing, thundering in her chest as she finally voices her darkest concern, “but sometimes I don’t know why and maybe you shouldn’t still love me after everything but…”  
  
“But?” Becky prods quietly.  
  
“But,” Charlotte says and Becky hears her take in a lungful of air as if she needs it to get through this next sentence. “I think it would probably kill me if you thought that too.”  
  
Becky leans forward and brushes her lips against the corner of Charlotte’s mouth. “Well it’s a good job I don’t think that then. I’ve known who you are from day one an’ I’m still here. You are who you are an’ I love who you are. I’m _happy_. Are you?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
The moments that define your life aren’t always obvious. There’s no screaming announcement, no finish line to cross with a cheering crowd and no big businesslike handshake. They aren’t always planned. Sometimes an idea just happens. Between one blink and the next, Becky makes the biggest decision of her life.

*****

“You can’t be serious.”  
  
“I am,” Becky answers. “Deadly serious, Sasha.”  
  
“It can’t be done in that time. No way.”  
  
“It can. I can do it. Are you guys in or what? C'mon I need your help.”  
  
Sasha sighs and then looks across at Bayley who is about to self implode while she tries to keep her smile in. “This is the stupidest idea ever but sure, we’re in.”

*****

The weather is miraculously gorgeous.  
  
The showers that have plagued them this week have been swept away in a haze of blue skies and yellow suns. Becky’s starting to wonder if maybe this is the universe giving her a slice of luck back, and she’s not going to say no to it, especially not today. In all honesty it’s pure coincidence that the weather has changed for the better but she’ll take it.  
  
Without realising it, Becky is digging her blunt nails into the soft skin on her palm, as if she is trying to resist the physical symptoms of nerves, and she is. She absolutely is. She drums her fingers against the edge of the breakfast bar and checks the time.  
  
“Do you fancy a walk? I need to get outta here for a while.”  
  
Charlotte isn’t sure what it is inside of her but she can feel the ‘serious conversation buzz’ in her stomach and she can see it in Becky’s face when Becky pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.  
  
Something doesn’t feel quite right.  
  
“What’s going on? Are you okay? Has something happened?”  
  
Becky’s face curls in surprise shock. “No, Charlotte, jeez. Chill. I just thought it was a nice day so we could go for a walk to the park or somethin’. It’s usually you encouraging me to do these things.”  
  
“True. I’ll just get my jacket.”  
  
-  
  
“Do I have anything to worry about, Becky?”  
  
Becky looks down at her phone again and the screen remains blank. She’s pretty sure that she’s going to be sick. “What?”  
  
“You, you keep looking down at that phone. If I was the jealous type I’d worry you had someone else.”  
  
Becky looks up to find Charlotte grinning at her. Charlotte’s obviously joking thankfully. Then on cue her phone lets out a little ping with a new notification and Becky’s eyes dive right back down to it. It’s a text message from Sasha containing a single word: _Sorted_.  
  
She slips the phone into her pocket and then takes Charlotte’s hand in her own, rubbing her thumb over the back of Charlotte’s hand. When Charlotte squeezes her hand back Becky realises how constricted her stomach feels: it’s like that awful feeling you get when you’ve eaten something you shouldn’t have.  
  
“You have nothing to worry about at all.”  
  
Becky has never been able to tear her gaze away from Charlotte, or not for long and only when absolutely necessary to preserve the idea that she is actually polite in company. Charlotte has been the recipient of a genetic lottery: a tremendous mind housed inside the body of beauty.  
  
Her blonde hair and stunning face can silence any room, but of all her attractive qualities, her eyes are what captivate Becky the most. Actually, they mesmerize her. They are piercing without being an absolute colour, and they shoot fireworks into Becky’s stomach in a strange, primeval way. Even from the side Charlotte’s eyes are compelling.  
  
Becky comes to a halt and almost drags Charlotte a few steps back when she does so. She drops Charlotte’s hand completely and Charlotte thinks Becky looks utterly delighted and completely worried at the same time.  
  
“I need to do somethin’, Charlotte.”  
  
Charlotte looks around the park and finds it oddly deserted for a Saturday afternoon. There’s no one nearby and no kids playing around in the playground, it’s just the two of them and something low and heavy settles in her stomach. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Well,” Becky starts and then falters because there’s really no preparing yourself for saying something like this, even if you’ve practiced it a hundred times in your head like she has. “If you want to pick a tree in this park, Charlotte, I’ll carve our names into it forever.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Remember you told me that if you wanted…” Becky stops and then takes a deep breath. “If you wanted to marry someone you should just ask them and do it.”  
  
Charlotte’s eyes are shining and her voice is rough. “You’re not…”  
  
“I am,” Becky answers quickly with a nervous laugh. “I absolutely am.”  
  
The happiness Charlotte feels is immense in the moment, it feels like she has swallowed a piece of the sun.  
  
And it’s funny how light and bright everything feels right now. The sun is high in the sky and the autumn weather is perfect, and the darkness that they have often been under this year feels like it can’t break through the cover of joy.  
  
And maybe darkness always has a part to play in every story – even theirs – and maybe that’s okay because without the darkness how do you know when you’re in the light?  
  
Charlotte supposes that it is moments like this that let you know when you are in the light.  
  
“I’ve rehearsed a speech about a million times but it all sounds so cheesy.” Becky rolls her eyes, but she’s well aware that Charlotte can see that she’s on the verge of tears. “But what matters is what I’ve told you before, I love you in this life and the one before this and – “  
  
“And the one after it too,” Charlotte finishes for her.  
  
“Yeah, so,” Becky says as she reaches into her back pocket and finds the ring that’s she’s been hiding there. She’d debated about bringing the box but she had nowhere to put it and Charlotte would have probably noticed it immediately and Becky had been nervous enough without this particular plan going haywire. “How about it, Charlotte?”  
  
“Yeah! Absolutely yes… now hurry up and put the ring on so that I can kiss you.”  
  
Becky’s never been one to refuse an offer like that and she doesn’t plan on starting now. She slips the ring onto Charlotte’s finger and then before she can speak Charlotte’s lips are on her own, familiar arms wrap around her neck to pull her close and Becky completely loses herself in it all.  
  
When they finally part Charlotte looks at Becky then and she feels that euphoric blend of happiness and fear. Happiness and fear are constant companions, you see. Charlotte knows that. Rarely in life does one exist without the other. Happiness that you have finally found _the_ person you’re supposed to be with and fear that if it ever comes crumbling down you will be completely ruined.  
  
But that’s the risk you sometimes have to take when you love someone and Becky is certainly worth the risk.  
  
Charlotte pulls on the collar of Becky’s jacket to bring her closer again and she can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of her year, of her _life_. Then she’s cupping Becky’s cheeks with both hands and kissing her again. “We should go home. Right now.”  
  
“Or… we could go and get married.”  
  
Charlotte’s smile falters and Becky watches the confusion seep into Charlotte’s eyes. “We are getting married.” She taps Becky’s temple with her index finger. “Is it you that’s forgotten this time? That’s usually my thing.”  
  
Becky grins and then says: “Nah. We could go and get married _now.”_ Becky turns them so that Charlotte is facing the opposite way. “Y’know the island in the middle of the water? The people who need to be there when we get married are already there.”  
  
She knows the exact second Charlotte realises what she is implying. Charlotte stills in her arms and, for a gut wrenching moment that lasts entirely too long for Becky’s liking, Becky wonders if she’s made a monumental mistake with this plan.  
  
“You’re not serious, Becky.” Charlotte shakes her head like she’s totally misheard or misread what Becky is saying. “You’ve put together a wedding? For today?”  
  
Becky tries not to be cocky, she really does, but her face gives her away because she is damn proud of herself for managing to pull this off underneath Charlotte’s nose. “I had a little help from our friends, but yeah.”  
  
“But I need a dress and – “  
  
“Do you trust me?”  
  
“Yeah, I trust you.”  
  
“Then believe me when I tell you it is all sorted.”  
  
When Becky presses her lips into the curve of Charlotte’s throat, Charlotte can feel the tears on her skin. For one long, drawn out infinite moment, Charlotte feels like she’s standing on a precipice: the end of one world and the start of a new one.  
  
“This is crazy,” Charlotte says, even as she guides Becky’s mouth to her own. She kisses Becky, not softly, but desperately. Desperately, because Becky’s worth it – because life can be terrifyingly short and she doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future - no one does - the future is a sucker’s bet, a what if. “But yeah, I’ll marry you today, Becky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't fret about Charlotte's ring for Becky, it hasn't been forgotten about!


	6. you and i've got what it takes to make it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go then, the final chapter!
> 
> I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has left a comment or kudos, I really cannot believe the love this fic has received. Thank you so much and I hope this final chapter is okay! There will be a music playlist available for this story soon too if anyone is interested in that kind of thing :)
> 
> You can also come talk to me on tumblr if you wish: borntorunnn

She is standing in the middle of a small make shift tent, in the middle of a park, in the middle of autumn and she is about to get married to her best friend.   
  
It sounds utterly ridiculous. It _is_ utterly ridiculous and yet Charlotte can’t help but think that this is exactly where she is supposed to be right now. She wouldn’t swap it to be anywhere else in the world. Not a single place.  
  
Her dress is strapless and white; it flows over her frame smoothly like water, except at the waist where it pinches in ever so slightly in a cluster of diamonds to highlight her natural curves. It’s elegant and traditional without being in your face. It’s all very Charlotte Flair and she can’t help but chuckle at that slightly because Becky knows her so well.   
  
The dress is perhaps just a hint too snug around her chest and Charlotte finds herself smiling at that too because she wonders if that’s been a deliberate incident on Becky’s part because if there’s one thing she knows Becky certainly appreciates, it is her chest. Her hair is full of soft curls and pulled over her right shoulder and she feels like some sort of Disney princess.  
  
“Can you help me with this?”   
  
“Sure.” Sasha moves from where she’s standing to clip the necklace into place. It’s a simple circular crystal that reflects the light in the colours of the rainbow and it flickers like a little beautiful happy flame. “Damn woman, if Becky changes her mind I’ll marry you instead.”   
  
“Why? Has she changed her mind? Does Becky – “   
  
“Woah, Char, relax.” Sasha holds up her hand in an attempt to stop Charlotte’s worry before it can manifest into anything major. That’s the last thing they need today. Why did she even say that? Rookie mistake. “I was just joking. Becky’s probably gonna faint when she sees you looking like this.”   
  
“And Becky… Becky’s okay, right? She still wants to do this?” Charlotte cringes at the worry that bleeds into her voice but she can’t help it. Something like this can’t go perfectly, surely? There’s an uncertain voice in the back of Charlotte’s head saying that things like this go perfectly every day but because it’s them then it won’t. It can’t. She consciously chooses to banish that voice to the back of her mind for now.  
  
Sasha knows first hand that Becky is nervous, she could tell when she left Becky with Bayley to come to Charlotte’s aid but there’s absolutely no point in telling Charlotte that right now so she simply decides not to. What’s a little white lie between best friends sometimes? Nothing. Well, that’s what rational reason she’s going with right now anyway. It’s all for the greater good. The bigger picture. Her best friends’ happiness.   
  
Sasha moves so that she’s standing in front of Charlotte and she places her hands on both of Charlotte’s shoulders. “Becky’s fine. She wouldn’t have done this if she wasn’t sure, you know that. You’re probably gonna faint when you see her too.”   
  
Charlotte eases a breath into her chest and then lets it out in slow motion.   
  
She’s getting married today and it will go perfectly.   
  
It simply has to.

\- 

Becky can’t ever remember a time when her mouth has felt so dry. When she swallows it is like attempting to move a giant boulder in her throat. She’s a nervous fucking wreck. Probably more nervous than she has any right to be. She’d always been told that nerves were normal before you get married, that they aren’t that bad, that you can control them. Turns out people are full of shit which is no real surprise but still.   
  
She paces forward a few steps and then turns and walks the opposite way, rubbing her hands together so quickly that she’s surprised that they don’t burst into flames or something like that.   
  
She shouldn’t be this nervous. She planned this whole thing for today. This was all her own idea. What the fuck was she thinking?   
  
“What if I fall? What if I faint? What if Charlotte does a runner on me?”   
  
“I don’t think any of that is going to happen, Becky,” Bayley says gently, and she says it with so much sincerity that Becky finds herself almost believing it because Bayely would never lie to her, would never tell her something that wasn’t true just for the sake of it. “I think you will be just fine.”   
  
Becky goes to pace back and forth again before Bayley reaches out and wraps her hand around the top of Becky’s arm, stopping her in her tracks. Bayley’s mind wanders to Sasha and she wonders how Sasha is dealing with Charlotte and if she’s having the same kind of problems – probably, she thinks.   
  
“I just want everything to go how it should,” Becky admits, reaching up to the braid in her hair before Bayley stops her hand this time. They have no time for Becky’s hair to be redone.   
  
“It will,” Bayley reassures her, “Becky, you love her and she loves you. It’s kind of gross actually but nothing will go wrong today and even if it does, we’ll fix it.”   
  
Becky decides to completely ignore the last part and okay, it kinda makes sense that something could go wrong on a day like today especially when it comes to them, but she’s choosing to take the easy option and only focus on the good. Their luck has got to change at some point, it may as well be today of all days.

\- 

Charlotte’s about to take another deep - supposed to be calming – breath when there’s a scratch on the fabric of the tent and she’s just about to tell Sasha she will be two seconds when her mouth closes of its own accord.   
  
“Holy shit.” Becky’s face as the words leave her mouth almost makes it seem as though she hadn’t meant to say those exact words. Sasha was wrong, Becky realises quickly, Charlotte doesn’t look like any princess. Charlotte looks like a queen and she’s Becky’s. “I mean, wow.”   
  
“Isn’t it bad luck to see each other before you get married?”   
  
“I’ve already seen you today,” Becky says as she takes a step further, “and I think we’ve had all the bad luck we can possibly have this year.”   
  
Becky can see the pulse in Charlotte’s throat thrumming. Charlotte’s nervous and so is Becky but she steels herself and resets her mind to the here and the now, to the things that are most important in this moment. Becky decides that she is going to be the brave one because someone will have to be if they are going to get through this. She tangles her fingers with Charlotte’s own and squeezes.  
  
“Becky, I – “   
  
“Hey, you can’t cry, cause if you cry then I will too and we can’t have that right now.”   
  
“They are happy tears. You look beautiful, Becky.” Becky does, Becky is absolutely gorgeous and Charlotte is probably the luckiest woman in the world. Actually, there’s no probably about it, she absolutely is. “Are you sure this is what you want?”   
  
“I’ve never been more sure of anythin’ in my whole life, Charlotte,” Becky answers honestly.   
  
Becky had always thought – naively – when she was younger that if she committed herself to one person then she would basically be giving up her entire freedom. It’s stupid now when she thinks about it, she understands that, because committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life is not losing your freedom at all; instead it means you have the guts to move into all the risks of a new type of freedom that comes with being part of a two, and the even bigger risk of being completely in love which is always a tad scary because hopefully it is a permanent thing, and while it has the opportunity to bury you under the ground it can also put you on the top of the mountain.   
  
“Really?”   
  
Becky feels a deep tug in her chest that Charlotte still needs that little bit of reassurance but she gets it, she understands why Charlotte sometimes needs her hand to hold and she’s always happy to give her that hand.   
  
“Really. Now how ‘bout we go and get married? Cause I kinda want to be your wife and I hope you still wanna be mine too.”   
  
“I do,” Charlotte replies before laughing at the implications of her words.   
  
“See, you’ve got it. How could I not be sure about this, Charlotte?”   
  
Becky’s words pass through her mind and leave a trail of comfort as if coated in some sort of soothing balm. Charlotte knows that in this silly thing called the world, there is a goal etched in a secret language for her, like drawings carved into the wall of ancient caves, that gives her life direction and meaning. It can’t be changed or altered no matter what and it will always be there to guide her onto the right path when necessary.  
  
When Becky pulls her into a chaste kiss she knows she’s on the right path.

\- 

Charlotte’s smile makes her eyes sparkle and her arms drape around Becky’s shoulders and when she looks at her left hand there are now two rings on her fourth finger and she might be in a room full of people who love her but she only has eyes for Becky   
  
Her wife. How crazy does that sound? Pretty fucking crazy.   
  
They still can’t dance well, it’s painfully obvious to everyone else in the room that her and Becky’s talent pool does not expand to dancing at all, not even close. But that’s okay, Charlotte thinks, if there’s anyone she wants to dance badly with then it is Becky.   
  
Her fingers comb through Becky’s hair and she can feel Becky’s mouth against her neck, leaving little puffs of warmth against her skin. Then Becky is taking her hand and twirling her around before bringing her back towards her and Charlotte has never felt a feeling like this.   
  
She feels weightless and yet completely anchored to this moment with Becky. It’s like she is swimming in love and instead of the current pulling her under, it is allowing her to drift happily within the water, like she is being embraced by it and carried along.   
  
“I love you,” Becky murmurs quietly and Charlotte feels the words vibrate against her skin. She finds Becky looking up at her and she knows what Becky’s going to say next, almost like it’s instinctual. “In this life, the one before and the one after.”   
  
“You always say that to me.”   
  
“I’m gonna keep saying it to you.”   
  
“You better.” Charlotte tilts Becky’s chin up then, pressing a tender kiss onto Becky’s lips and ignoring the sickeningly sweet cheers that come from their family and friends. “Today feels like it has been a dream.”   
  
“I think you should kiss me again then, y’know just in case we have to wake up from this dream.”   
  
Charlotte does kiss Becky again then. “I love you too.” 

\- 

The sky above them is black like someone has wiped the stars away with the side of their hand. Charlotte sighs and turns her head so that her nose brushes against Becky’s hair.   
  
“I can’t believe I got married to you today,” Charlotte says and there’s an excited lilt to her voice.   
  
“Regrettin’ it already? Damn, that must be a record.” Becky’s only joking because Charlotte can hear the playfulness in her tone but that doesn’t stop Charlotte from reaching out and taking Becky’s hand into her own. “I think I’ll be pretty damn good at being married to you, Charlotte. Can you believe I married a Flair?”   
  
“Ah, no.” Charlotte taps Becky’s nose gently with her index finger. “Ex Flair, I want to be a Lynch now. I think that’s been my goal all along by the sounds of it.”   
  
The way Charlotte says it has Becky grinning from ear to ear. Charlotte sounds sure and confident and even a little bit proud of that.   
  
“Yeah you will be, Charlotte.”   
  
Charlotte’s always felt that holding hands is one of those really underrated intimate acts that people just take for granted for the hell of it. You can kiss your family and friends, casually to say hello or goodbye. You can even kiss your partner on the lips whenever you feel like it because you want to. You can usually hug people you know whenever you see them too.  
  
But to join hands with your _wife_ and hold them in that way, with the seemingly endless possibilities flowing between you both? The promise of it, the excitement of it and the tenderness that it brings is something that you can only share with one person in your life.   
  
For Charlotte, Becky is that person.

\- 

Charlotte is a shaking, quivering disaster when Becky is done with her hours later. Her throat is scratchy from moaning and her body aches in the best possible way but it doesn’t stop her from asking for more from Becky, from demanding more from Becky.   
  
Becky is kneeling behind her with her breasts pressed against Charlotte’s back and Becky’s left hand cups one of Charlotte’s own breasts while her right hand works between Charlotte’s legs and her mouth is at Charlotte’s neck, and Charlotte is a goddamn mess because of it all.   
  
“What else am I gonna do with you, baby?” Becky whispers as she presses more firmly with her right hand and Charlotte almost buckles again. “Any ideas?”   
  
“Everything,” Charlotte eventually whimpers and she places her left hand over Becky’s own, squeezing tight. “Do everything with me.” 

\- 

The morning sun is just blinking open its eyes when Charlotte wakes. She aches everywhere and the pain is exquisite, delicious even. It’s helped by the fact that Becky is currently lying flat out on top of her, head tucked underneath Charlotte’s chin and their limbs all tangled up in each other.   
  
Charlotte’s left hand vacates its place on Becky’s back and she holds it up in front of her to look at the two bands that wrap around her finger.  
  
She is _married._ She is married to Becky. She is Becky’s wife.   
  
Becky’s head presses against her collarbone, cheek sliding against Charlotte’s skin until lips are pressing against the hollow of Charlotte’s throat, then she’s pulling away slightly, eyes roaming over the exposed skin of Charlotte’s chest. “Mornin’.”   
  
“My eyes are up here,” Charlotte teases as she tilts Becky’s chin upwards with her finger and Becky only grins because she can stare at Charlotte all day if she really wants to. A throaty laugh tears its way out of Charlotte’s mouth when Becky kisses her. “We’re actually married.”   
  
“Yeah, we are. An’ I’m the luckiest person on the planet, Charlotte.”   
  
Life is never perfect but it does offer you moments that are perfect and that has to be enough sometimes. This, for them, is perfect.

*****

There’s a full moon in the velvet black sky outside. The moonlight, white and clean and lovely, reflects off the high vast buildings, laying a sparkling lunar road on the surface of them. Becky is pretty sure that this is as quiet as the city gets – period.   
  
She can feel the dull ache of almost fourteen hours worth of work creeping into her bones and her head. It is almost as if her body and mind are working on different time zones. She can hear the faint murmur of people laughing somewhere outside of the apartment.   
  
Charlotte’s head is on her lap and Becky’s fingers are moving effortlessly through copious amounts of blonde hair.   
  
“Are you okay?” Charlotte asks as she moves so she’s sitting up.   
  
Charlotte reaches out and touches Becky’s face, stroking Becky’s cheek with her finger as she swings a leg over so she is straddling Becky’s hips. Becky can feel the heat of Charlotte’s body as she presses against her. She can feel the firm muscle of Charlotte’s thigh when she puts her hand on Charlotte’s leg. Unfortunately, that is the full extent of her feelings right now.  
  
“Today was a long day.”   
  
“Do you want to go to bed?”   
  
“Nah, I won’t be able to sleep, my mind is still on overdrive.”   
  
“Do you want me to move – “  
  
“Nah,” Becky says, pulling Charlotte back upwards. “I’m sorry, it’s just –“   
  
Charlotte puts a finger to her lips and Becky shushes at the contact. “You know what I really want to do right now?” She climbs off Becky but stays close. “I want to watch mind numbingly boring tv with you until you fall asleep.”   
  
“Charlotte, you don’t – “   
  
“Shh.” Charlotte takes Becky’s arm and wraps it around her shoulder. She rests her head on Becky’s chest and her hand on Becky’s leg.   
  
“You’re pretty good at this wife thing, y’know.”   
  
“We both are, Becks.”   
  
Becky stares at the television and she tries to concentrate, she does, but she can feel her eyelids getting heavy before long. Charlotte’s nails are drawing patterns on her leg and she lets out a slow breath at the sensation of it. Being married is better than anyone can explain; Becky will die on a hill for that argument, no questions asked.   
  
Finally, Becky’s eyes stay closed and she falls asleep.

*****

It happens on a Thursday night almost a year to the day after the accident that turned their lives upside down and scattered all the contents of it around all over the place.   
  
Becky’s in the middle of watching a football game when Charlotte comes flying through the door like some sort of wild human tornado and she quickly removes her feet from the table before she gets told off as usual.   
  
“I was gonna order us… what’s wrong, Charlotte?”  
  
Charlotte speaks frantically and breathlessly but she is wearing a happy smile and Becky doesn’t move because she can’t actually comprehend what is coming out of her mouth because it is spoken at such speed. It is like someone has pressed fast forward on Charlotte’s words. It’s all a bit of a blur.   
  
“Becky, I – on our first date we were supposed to go out but I didn’t feel great and I didn’t want to cancel so we stayed in. I put on a stupid movie and fell asleep and woke up near the end and you hadn’t moved even though I knew you knew I’d fallen asleep.” Charlotte takes in a breath and then another. “I said you should have gone to that club with Sasha at least you’d have been able to have fun and dance and then you pulled me off the sofa and you told me that you only wanted to dance with me, even if it meant in my house with no good music.”   
  
Becky’s eyes snap upwards then.   
  
“After the first night we spent together you came downstairs in the morning with my hoodie on, it was that ugly white one from college that I hated but I couldn’t get rid of after you – “  
  
“Hey,” Becky interrupts, and her head is swimming. “You love me wearing your clothes an’ that hoodie was damn comfortable – “

“I didn’t know what to make you for breakfast. I was so nervous which was stupid so I ended up putting three different kinds of cereal on the table even though I didn’t even know if you liked cereal but you did – “   
  
“Charlotte – “  
  
“And I realised that morning that I had been completely wrong about you and that I’d probably be happy eating cereal with you every morning. That’s why cereal was a connector to you, it’s why I always felt something with it.”   
  
Charlotte _remembers,_ Becky realises. Charlotte remembers _her.  
  
_And Becky remembers that morning like it was yesterday.   
  
And so does Charlotte apparently.   
  
“You remember,” Becky whispers and her voice sounds like a broken little thing.   
  
“I watched you sort Skittles into different piles, a different group for each colour and then you ate them in order from your least favourite colour to your favourite colour. I said that I loved you before I even knew it was out of my mouth.”   
  
Becky grins. “I knew I loved you before that, way before that.”   
  
“I know.” Charlotte grins back. “I was so scared but you held my hand and told me you loved me too and I knew that you meant it.”   
  
“You remember, Charlotte.”   
  
“I remember. I was sitting in traffic lights and it just happened, I was twisting my wedding ring around my finger and I don’t know, I just remembered.” Tears start falling then, streaming down her cheeks but she is happy. Utterly delighted actually. They aren’t tears because she is sad; they are the opposite of that, and there’s no point in wiping them away so she lets them fall.   
  
Before she can move, Charlotte is engulfed in strong arms as Becky buries her head into her shoulder. Then there are legs wrapping around Charlotte’s waist and Charlotte picks Becky up to sit her on the kitchen counter.   
  
It is amazing what Charlotte can do to her. Even slow languid kisses with Charlotte makes Becky’s heart scream like some sort of broken alarm clock. They fall into a heady exploration of wet kisses, and the sudden rush of blood to her head makes Becky feel dizzy. Her hands are pulling at the zip of Charlotte’s jacket before she even realises where they are.   
  
Charlotte takes Becky’s left hand and places it over her heart. There are two rings on Becky’s finger too, Charlotte had made sure that her engagement ring hadn’t gone to waste. And yeah, it was a little backwards that the wedding ring was on Becky’s finger before the engagement ring but it wouldn’t be them if it were any other way, would it?  
  
“I remember _you_.” Charlotte says it again and again before she presses her head to Becky’s own. “I don’t think I ever really forgot you, Becky. How could I? You are it for me, you’ve always been it for me.”   
  
Love is one of life’s biggest mysteries. Probably the most complicated of mysteries too because it’s never wrong. To love someone or to be in love is never wrong, it can’t be, right? It might be a disaster. It might never be possible in the way you want it to be. It might even leave you with a broken heart but it is never wrong because when it is right the world simply makes better sense.

*****

Life is strange in an unquantifiable way at times: one day you’re living in a modern apartment in the middle of the city, watching the sun set behind the buildings like cooling lava. The next, you’ve been married for two years, almost living in the sticks next to a tranquil lake with an adopted dog and a baby on the way, carried by a woman who has owned your heart since the first encounter years before.   
  
They are sitting side by side in sun loungers by the lake, sipping tea in loose, easy companionship. Charlotte is cradling her very pregnant stomach with one hand – a totally unconscious gesture, Becky has come to realise – for comfort, support, or both and her gaze is still focused on the flat plate of blue water in front of her. Even from the side, Charlotte is glowing.   
  
There’s a third chair out for Ralph, the dog they’d rescued over eight months ago, but it is empty. He has picked a shady spot by Charlotte’s feet to snore off his latest squirrel chase. Ralph had fitted in with them almost immediately, Becky’s still convinced he fell in love with the house before he fell in love with her but who could blame him really? Here he can run to his heart’s content, chase squirrels and butterflies and birds, explore the woods, and on one horrendous occasion, he’d found a dead fish on the shore to roll in - they don’t talk about that particular incident much and they still adore him in spite of it.  
  
“How long do you think it’ll take for him to go back into the water?”   
  
Charlotte reaches down and ruffles the wave of curly hair on Ralph’s back. His tail wags a pathetic, sleepy acknowledgement of her gesture, but other than that he remains almost motionless. “He’s a Labrador, probably as soon as he wakes up. I don’t know who’s more excited about that you or him.”   
  
Becky smiles and watches as a bird floats by the dock, diving underneath the water for a quick bath. It feels like they have always lived here and nowhere else. It’s about as far away from city life that they can get and Becky loves it. There’s nothing better than getting up early to go for a run or hike with Ralph, and Charlotte who’d usually tag along with them but can’t now.   
  
Every day is like an adventure and Becky loves it.   
  
She reaches over and places her hand over Charlotte’s, over their baby. She feels a kick and interprets that as a greeting, she grins harder.   
  
“I’m gonna make a prediction – two more weeks. I’m going for the fifth of August.”   
  
Charlotte narrows her eyes. “It’s funny you should say that because Sasha gave me a ‘prediction’ a few days ago too. Becky, do you have a bet on about our child?”   
  
“Nah?”   
  
Charlotte gives her a look then and Becky knows she’s busted.   
  
“Okay, fine. We do.”   
  
“What does she think?” Charlotte asks.   
  
“She thinks next week.”   
  
Charlotte lifts a brow in Becky’s direction. “I can’t believe you’re betting on your child!”   
  
Becky rolls her eyes and then blows her cheeks out like she’s offended at Charlotte’s words. “It was Sasha’s idea! We wanted to make it… y’know, more interesting.”   
  
Charlotte grants Becky a sly smile, and then stands and Ralph sparks into life. Dogs are incredible that way. They can wake up from a stupor and take a five mile walk with you, just like that. “Come on, I need to get changed before we go out and so do you.”   
  
“What do you think?”   
  
“About what?”   
  
“My junior,” Becky says happily, “when is she coming? Two weeks or next week? Feel free to join in with us y’know, twenty dollars a pop.”   
  
Charlotte looks out at the lake one last time before heading up towards the house with Ralph following faithfully at her feet, a soft smile still playing on her lips. “Well, you’re both wrong.” 

*****

"So, how’s Charlotte and the baby doin'?” Finn asks.   
  
Becky suddenly feels an incredible, cleansing emptiness as engines and broken down cars completely evacuate her mind, replaced by astonishing visions of what her near future might be like. It’s quite something.   
  
“She’s kicking like a maniac.”   
  
“It’s a girl? I thought you guys weren’t finding out what you were havin’?”   
  
“Nah, we haven’t found out. I dunno if it’s a girl or not, but I think so, so I’m just going with it.” 

*****

Becky is sitting on the chair next to the hospital bed, cradling her baby girl, who is without question the most beautiful child to ever grace this earth. There isn’t even a contest as far as Becky is concerned. She makes faces, coos and babbles in a disjointed manner – it’s kinda funny how babies can transform adults into shameless goofballs in that way.   
  
Charlotte is smiling down at the tiny heart shaped face while she strokes the back of Becky’s hair. It is strange to be in a state of complete contentment and bliss after hours of labour but here she is anyway and she wouldn’t change it for anything.  
  
“She’s incredible, Charlotte,” Becky states quietly, “you were amazing.”   
  
“Don’t sell yourself short, you were with me all the way.” Charlotte suddenly arches her brow at Becky and those amazing eyes that Becky adores narrow. “Talking of short, I believe I’m forty dollars short right now.”   
  
“What?”   
  
Charlotte wiggles her finger at her. “Hand it over, babe.”   
  
Becky bites back a grin. “I dunno what you’re on about. You’re just doped up on pain relief.”   
  
“You’re a terrible liar. The bet. You and Sasha were both wrong, just like I said you would be.”   
  
Becky tilts her head back and pretends to think about it, and Charlotte can’t help but laugh. “I can’t remember you buying in with our bet.”   
  
They hold exaggerated eye contact for about thirty seconds before they both concede and start laughing together. If contentment had a sound then Charlotte thinks this is exactly what it would be.  
  
“Fine, I owe you forty.”   
  
Charlotte leans back with the cutest expression of smug satisfaction and Becky swears she falls in love with her all over again. “We need a name, Becky.”   
  
They do need a name, and it seems like the most daunting, demanding task that Becky has ever confronted in her life, and there’s been a fair few but this is probably at the top. This is giving a tiny living, breathing person a name for life. A living, breathing person who she utterly adores already and would walk to the ends of the earth for.   
  
How do you pick a name for something so precious and perfect?  
  
Becky really doesn’t know.  
  
“We’ll figure something out, Charlotte. We always do.”   
  
Becky gazes down at the little piece of Heaven that has somehow magically fallen to earth and slap bang into her arms. Then she stands and places her back into Charlotte’s arms, kissing Charlotte’s forehead before brushing their lips together lightly.   
  
“How did we manage to get all this?” Becky asks quietly, and she honestly can't quite believe that this is her life now but it is, it really is.   
  
“Because it’s us and because after everything we deserve it.”  
  
Sometimes in life your dreams have to die quietly and then sometimes they don’t have to die at all. 

\- 

“Did you lift her hat?” Becky asks as she leans forward and peeks into the car seat that she is carrying.   
  
“Oh, I forgot. It’s still on the bed.”   
  
“It’s not like you to forget, Charlotte.”   
  
“Oh, very funny. You’re an ass.”   
  
“Ah, I know,” Becky agrees with a cocky grin, “but you love me.”   
  
“I do, very much so.”   
  
Happiness isn’t always what you think it is: it is like a rainbow, a fragile thing that arrives, unsought and sometimes unexpected, and graces the world that you’re in. You can’t hunt it down; you can’t hold it either. But sometimes, in a moment, it is just there and you are there with it with the people you love the most in the world and that is all that matters.   
  
When Charlotte looks into Becky’s eyes, she’s welcomed into the safety of them, and then Becky’s smiling at her and Charlotte’s backpedaling towards her hospital room to get the little hat that she has some how forgotten to lift.

It’s a big dose of irony, she knows.  
  
When she glances over her shoulder at Becky who is carrying their daughter in a car seat all she can see is forever.   
  
Charlotte is just fine with that.


End file.
